


Never Never Ever Ever

by LacieRiverPanda27



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A LaicePanda(LacieRiverPanda27) Work, Abduction, Beaten to Death, Big Brother Mycroft, Caring Sherlock, Crazy, Gen, Insanity, LaciePanda, Minor Graphic Violence, Moriarty's crazy girlfriend, Murder Mystery, Never Never Ever Ever, No Moriarty isn't actually in this, Non-Graphic Violence, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Previously known as: The Case of the Disappearing Doctor, mentions of Moriarty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacieRiverPanda27/pseuds/LacieRiverPanda27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock goes undercover as Mycroft and John as a business partner at a resort things get completely out of hand. And is Sherlock keeping a secret about the case?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And So It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Previously known as: The Case of the Disappearing Doctor.  
> Also on Fanfiction.net  
> By The Consulting Panda  
> (Me)

A young middle aged woman walked down the sidewalk arm-in-arm with her boyfriend. "Toby, this really has been a wonderful evening!" she says in her Italian account. "Why thank you Angel, but it is you who is wonderful. I had a great time." The men said before placing a soft kiss on the girl's cheek. The two remand arm-in-arm the rest of their walk which, unfortunately, did not last much longer.

* * *

"Alright, let's see what we have here" Said the gruff and tried voice of Greg Lestrade. "Well, a middle aged man, closed to early 30's and a middle aged women of around the same age, were found in a back alley beat to death, by the looks of it." Said Sergeant Sally Donovan. The two were equipped with flashlights and were looking over the dead couple. "Must have just been coming home from a night out," Said Donovan, making her own deductions.

"Maybe," was the Inspector's reply.

Donovan could see the look on Lestrade's face. It was the same look he had when he was baffled.

"You're going to call him, aren't you?" She said rolling her eyes.

"Maybe," again came echoing from the man's mouth.

"Look, we can handle this. They were clearly mugged after coming home from dinner. End of story! Case closed!"

"Is it? Were they?" Lestrade was now looking Donovan straight in the eye. "I know I've been calling on him a lot lately, but this should be clear, look again Donovan, and tell me what's wrong with this picture. Donovan stepped closer to get a better looked. "Well, umm...er..." She bite her bottom lip. "Come on Donovan, unless you want me to call-"

"NO! Just give me a sec," She bent over and looked even closer. "Hey, wait a-" a grin formed on the Inspector's face. "Yes Sergeant?" "Why, these two, haven't just been mugged, but something was ripped off of them! But...I can't tell what."

"That's what I thought, now, if you will excuse me; I have to make a phone call."

* * *

The sun was shining bright through the curtains of John Watson's window. Sitting up, he gave huge yawn and stretched out his arms. He got out of bed, got changed and freshened himself up  and was about to make his way down the stairs when he realized something.

It was quiet, too quiet.

"Sherlock? You up?" said the ex-army doctor looking in the living room, but no one was there. "Sherlock?" he called again in the kitchen, but that room too was empty. "Sherlock Holmes!?" he called out again, but still no answer.

Figuring he must have stepped out, John went and made himself a cup of tea, some toast, and sat down to update his blog after their most recent case. It was now getting later and still no sign of Sherlock. That's when he phone went off. "Finally," said John as he reached over and read the text.

_Toby Glenworth and Angel Deens, research them and tell me what you find. -SH_

_Where are you? -JW_

_Sorry, got a case last night. Tried to wake you, but you threw a pillow at me. -SH_

"Right, Good me," John said praising himself, then went online to see what he could about the two people Sherlock had texted him about.

_Find anything? -SH_

_Not yet -JW_

_Hurry, and meet me down at 87 willow lane. -SH_

_Why? And hold on, have you eaten? -JW_

_Not important. Come as fast as you came. -SH_

John sighed, He slid his phone in his pocket, grabbed his jacket which held his wallet, and a biscuit or two with some tea to-go, and went outside and caught a cab.

* * *

"Ah! John! Made it at least did we?" Sherlock said greeting his friend outside a restaurant.

"Hold on, I though you said you'd hadn't eaten yet?" John said staring at the restaurant. "I haven't...Don't tell me, you brought along-" And before he could finish his sentence John produced the tea and biscuit. "Eat" John said holding them up to the detectives face.

"I'm quite fine I assure you." Sherlock put his hands in his pocket.

"Yes, I'm sure you are. Considering you didn't eat last time and you've been out running around doing who knows what."

Sherlock gave a heavy sigh. "Sarcastic doesn't suit you"

"Plus if you don't eat you’ll start losing energy and soon you'll HAVE to stop and rest, whether you like or not! So I suggest you eat now before you collapse on the streets of London for the entire world to see!"

Sherlock snatched the Tea and biscuits and stuffed one of the biscuits in his mouth and began to chug down the tea.

"Not so fast!" John said before handing him the other biscuit.

"Ugggggh! We're losing time!" Sherlock taking the other biscuit, but this time shoved it in his pocket for later.


	2. The Babylon Gardens

"Alright Sherlock, fill me in, what are we doing here?" John said as they walked down the sidewalk. "Last night a couple was found murdered, they had been mugged on the street, had a couple of items stolen and left to die." The Detective said nonchalantly.

"But I'm guessing there's more to this 'Then Meets the Eye?'" John said, they stopped in front of an alley where the Lestrade, Donovan and rest of their gang were just packing up. "You see, I found that they were 'High School Lovers' who recently got back together, the man, Toby Glenworth, was trying to impress her, so he decided to take her out to dine at a resort and-"

"Not to be a spoilsport, but could please skip the back-story?" John said seeing the body of both the man and woman being taken away. He was tired and he had a feeling Sherlock was about to going on a rant about the two's personal life and stuff that had nothing to do with the case. "Right, well anyways, instead of taking his limo home, he decided to walk her back, which was of course a stupid idea. Now John, before I go any further, did you find anything about these two?"

John shrugged, "Nothing unusual, both went to the same high school, she went back home to Italy after graduating and he went off to college. Toby then went on into the business world and has done a good job of staying out of any trouble, no affairs, scandals, nothing. And Miss...Angel didn't come back to London till a couple days ago."

Sherlock nodded, "Just as I thought, completely ordinary. Well you see, it isn't the people who were killed that makes this so interesting, but the murders. Tell me, have you ever heard of the 'Black Diamond Snakes?"

The doctor pauses, then continues, "Black diamond Snakes?...No, never heard of it, why?"

"They're a gang that roams the back allies of the world; they try, and do, stay out of sight and keep a low profile. They just aren't in London, but they have a headquarter in almost every major city. But their ringleader is staying here in London."

"And you know this because...?" John was quite baffled about how much Sherlock knew about this gang.

"Homeless network, now let me finish will you?" Sherlock then continued on, "The resort the couple went to last night is called 'The Babylon Gardens', They are famous for having the finest of everything. And I happen to knew that within the past few weeks, 3 members from each of their top 5 resorts have been murdered."

"So, what you're saying is, this gang who call themselves 'The Black Snakes' are attacking members of 'The Babylon Gardens' because...?"

"That's what we're going to find out." Sherlock now turned to Lestrade, "Do you have the address for me?"

"Sherlock, John," Lestrade nodded at the two of them; turning back to Sherlock he gave a sigh, "Yeah, I got the bloody address for you, but really Sherlock, couldn't you have just asked Mycroft? After all, he's a member there and I'm sure-"

Sherlock didn't let him finish, instead, a shark like smile grow upon his face. "Don't worry, Mycroft will get his turn, I just didn't want to ask too many favors from him. Come along John, we have work to do!"

* * *

Back at the flat, Sherlock was busy texting away on his phone while John sat down on the sofa, "Ok, What's going on? You said back there you were going to ask Mycroft for help, which is obviously a lie, so tell, what's really going on?"

Without looking away from his phone Sherlock said in his deep voice, "I wasn't lying, I AM going to ask (text rather) Mycroft," as he said this, a smile, a shark-like, devilish smile made its way onto Sherlock's face.

"Sherlock, what are you planning to do with Mycroft?"

"Easy, I'm going to ask him to take a holiday. You know, rest, eat, enjoy himself, take it easy-"

"You going to ask him to take a trip to The Babylon Gardens!?"

Sherlock stop and stared at his friend, he looked like a child who had just been caught lacing his sister's shoelaces together.

"Sherlock Holmes! I don't care how much you dislike Mycroft that does not give you the right to use him! For God sake Sherlock he's your brother, and you were about to ask him to walk right into a death trap! Please tell me you're not serious!"

"But I thought you didn't like Mycroft?" Sherlock sitting in an awkward position in his armchair.

"I don't really, I mean...But I don't wish death upon him!"

Sherlock gave out a loud moan, "Fine, then there's only one alternative."

"And what's that?" John asked nervously. If Sherlock was really willing to put his own brother in danger, what else might he do?

* * *

That night, ex-army doctor John Watson found himself dressing up in front of a mirror in a suite at The Babylon Gardens.

_Are you ready? -SH_

John groaned, although he still didn't wish death upon Mycroft, he certainly wished to trade places with him.

_Give me 2 minutes -JW_

In exactly 2 minutes after he sent the text, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "You ready?" Sherlock yelled through the door.

"Give me a sec!" John yelled back,

"I gave you 2 minutes just like you asked! Hurry up!"

* * *

In an expensive looking dining room Sherlock and John sat in silence. John looking at the menu, Sherlock, looking at each guest, deduced each one's life story.

"How do you know they’ll fall for it? John spoke up without looking from his menu,

"Fall for what?" Sherlock said turning back to his flatmate.

"How do you know the gang will go for us? I mean, out of all the people and...Couples...How do you know they will target us?"

Just as Sherlock opened his mouth, the waiter arrived. "I'll have the chicken special, with a side of broccoli-"

But before John could say what he wanted to drink, Sherlock spoke for him. "And we'll have two glasses of wine."

"Very good sir and what kind would you like?"

John went to spoke, but Sherlock again spoke for him. "The club special," he said with a wink and a fake smile.

"Of course, just wait a moment and I'll have those drinks right out!"

With the waiter gone the two were free to talk among themselves.

"Sherlock I don't want wine! I just wanted water with a lemon! What do you seriously have against lemons!?"

"Nothing, but the gang members want you to have wine."

"What? Why? Are you trying to get me drunk!?" John, now really scared, all he wanted was a lemon, a nice sour lemon. But Sherlock should have been glad he didn't let John get his lemon, for if he had, and John heard what Sherlock was going to say next, he would has squirted the lemon in Sherlock's eyes.

"While you were taking your precious time getting ready in your bathroom I went and looked up where the Babylon Garden gets its food, where it's from and all sorts, when I found they get a special wine, reserved only for Diamond class members, that is imported from France. I also found that each one of the victims drank this wine the night they died. I also noticed that you had the chicken special, which contains a certain type of gravy which you dislike, so now Dr. Watson would like to tell me why you are forcing yourself to eat foods with which you disagree with?"

John looked around the room to make sure no one could hear them. "Look, I don't know how much money you got, but I do know it's not enough to get you into the Diamond class-"

"Us" Sherlock interrupted.

"What?"

"I got US into the Diamond Class, continue please" Sherlock without showing any expression.

"Right...Well you haven't got a whole ton of money and it isn't smart to go blowing it with buying expensive food and-"

"You're right"

"I am...?" John said confused.

"I don't have a whole ton of money" Sherlock stopped and grinned. "But Mycroft does"

They two began to giggle, as Sherlock slipped up too show Mycroft's credit card in his hand. "Tonight I am Mycroft Holmes and you are a Mr. Peterson James head of very large business that is doing business with the Mycroft."

John opened his mouth to scold Sherlock, but soon lost all seriousness and broke out into laughter, which Sherlock soon joined him in.

"Your wine...sirs?"

"Thank you...Ummm...Mr...?"

"Fredrick, you may call me Fredrick" The waiter said as he placed the two wines on the table. "Your orders will be out soon.” He said as he turned and left.

Sherlock raised his glass "To Mycroft!"

John raised his glass as well "To Mycroft!"


	3. The first disappearance

After dinner, when Sherlock and John returned to their suites, John noticed a pile of letters sitting on a bedside table; John picked the pile up and looked through it. The first one was an advertisement for "The Babylon Gardens Cruise line", he put it at the bottom and looked at the second one, it was coupon for a spa, doing to it the same as first he same to the third one, another coupon, but this one was for a discount on Golf karts. Deciding that they were all probably junk he throw them to the side, unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons on his shirt and went to get out a change of clothes.

At the resort, Sherlock had reserved two suites, one for him and one, of course, for John. Each room had a huge bathroom with baths that had jets in them. Outside the bathroom was a sitting area with the newest Tv, a sofa and an armchair both made from the finest materials. John at first wondered why Sherlock had not just gotta less expensive room with two beds. But during dinner, when Sherlock reviled that all the victims were Diamond Class, He guessed that it would have odd it people found out that Mycroft and another 'Businessman' were sharing a room.  
Even though they had separate rooms, the two rooms were connected by two doors, which as John found, did not keep the sound out very much.

So as John had gotten his clothes and was about to make his way to the bathroom to change he heard a knock on the door to Sherlock's room. With a groan he went over and opened the door.

"What is it Sherlock?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm going out, I'll not to be out too long, just want to get to know the area bit."

"Fine, just give me 5 minutes and I'll be ready to go..."

"You know John...You don't have to come..." Sherlock feeling guilty, he saw how tried John was.

"Yes I do, if I don't you'll get yourself into trouble then I'll have to deal with getting you out and-"

"John, really, you don't have to come. Why do you stay and get some rest, this is a resort after all."

"Sherlock, we're on a case, I'm coming with you whether you like or-"

"No John I've decided, you're stay."

And with that Sherlock shut and locked the door. John shook his head and went back to getting changed.

* * *

Sherlock walked around the outside of the building with his hands in his pockets. The real reason he changed his mind is because he realized that he could be putting John in danger. The couple who were killed the other night only had one meal, and then walked home. If John came with him on his walk, John might be attacked. Deep down Sherlock knew John was able to handle himself, and if he was every attacked that he could take someone if he wanted too. But Sherlock also knew that if something happened to John...well, he didn't want to think about that, it gave him too many emotions. As he walked along the path that lead out into a beautiful garden, he thought about when the last time he had seen gardens so lovely...Let's see...It was on a case, That's right! It was on a case for a millionaire whose son had been murdered. In the end it turned out to be the younger son who was the murder, he had wanted the family fortune and-

Sherlock thoughts were interrupted, alarms started going off throughout the entire resort. He went running inside to find the police already there. People were being told to go back to their rooms, well everyone who didn't have a room on the 2th floor that is, which happened to be the floor which John and Sherlock's room were.

"What's going on!?" Sherlock demanded when they would not let him go to his room. "I'm sorry sir, there's been...a break in, and that entire floor is closed off. We can give you another room and let you get your things once the police have-"

"Never mind, what room was broken into?" Sherlock asked, he assumed it was a normal break in, not very interesting, but he was board.

"Room 411, why sir? It is your room?" The man asked.

Sherlock was shocked but only for a second, "No...I know the man who was staying in it...The man, was he ok?"

"I'm sorry sir...But when we opened the door, no one was there. We thought the person who was staying there must have stepped out."

With that, Sherlock took off towards John's room. No, John should have been there. Sherlock should have been there. How long had he been gone? Sherlock looked at his phone, he had been gone an hour and a half. He should have been there.

Everywhere he looked he kept seeing the word ‘wrong’ pop up. They were doing this all wrong, they were messing everything up. All the evidence was being destroyed.

When Sherlock arrived at the end of the hall that leads to the rooms, he found it had been closed off with familiar yellow tap. "I need to get through!" Sherlock said to an officer. "Sorry mate, crime scene, now off ya pop!"

Sherlock would have said more, but he knew it would be all in vain. He pulled out his phone and called a certain DI, who was enjoying a rather nice and QUIET night in.

"Lestrade, I need to get into a crime scene, do you think you could pull some strings for me?"

……..

"It's...John, I think something may have happened to him and so help me if something does happen to him because I was unable to-...Thank you,"

With that the detective shut his phone and waited a couple of seconds before the phone of the Inspector who was in charge of scene phone went off.

"Who...Yes, who is this?"

...

"Sherlock Holmes? Yeah, what about him?"

...

"Look, I just can't have some random bloke go poking around-"

...

"I see...Thank you Inspector Lestrade."

He hung up his phone and slid it into his pocket. "Mr. Holmes?" The Inspector called assuming the dark figure was him by Lestrade's description.

Sherlock walked over and stood in front of the Inspector, Only the yellow tape now separated Sherlock from trying to find his friend.

"My name is Inspector James; I was just connected by Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"I know"

Inspector James had heard much of Sherlock Holmes, and to be honest, he was quite jealous of him. He had hundreds of unsolved cases just lying around, and something deep inside told him that Sherlock could solve over half of them just by looking at them. While he, Inspector Collins James, was confused and baffled by them.

It just wasn't fair.

The two stood there in total silence for about 2 minutes, until finally James removed the yellow tape and let Sherlock through. James didn't move, he stood there in total silence. He didn't look, for he knew Sherlock could read him like a book. Why did Sherlock only help with the cases he did? How could he not help everyone who came to him? James had heard much about Sherlock, how brilliant he was, how he could tell your life story just by looking at you, but he had also heard how Sherlock was 'Picky' about which cases he took one. The moment James first heard about Sherlock he had turned him into some kind of superhero. But all those fantasies were stripped away when one day a friend of James came begging him for help after Sherlock had turned him down because his cases was 'boring'.

Sherlock walked down the hall and finally came to the room 411. As he opened the door, he gave himself false hope that he would see John sitting in a chair reading a book. But the reality set in as he looked around the empty room. Clothes were scattered all across the room, furniture was knocked over and there a couple dents in the wall, and lastly, the window was broken.

As he looked more thoroughly throughout the room, he could envision the entire struggle in his head.

* * *

***Earlier that night***

John was lying in bed when he heard someone slowly opening the window from the outside. He cautiously reached over for his gun in the nightstand drawer when he heard a gun click. A threat was now made that if he made one move inch he would get a bullet in the head.

 As he slowly rose from bed, he quickly made note of everything that was going on. Three men were now standing in the room, two had guns, and the other was giving orders.

As the two gun men turned their heads back towards their leader for a slit second, John took this opportunity to grab his gun. He obviously couldn't use it now, but it could come in handy later. The leader, noticing this, yelled at his men to grab John and take away his gun. John did give a bit of a struggle, he knew he couldn't take out all three of the men, who were each twice his size, but he could at least make some noise for someone to hopefully hear him.

 Finally having John under control, the leader of the group injected something inside of John, and within a couple of seconds John was unconscious and thrown out the window where another group of men was waiting for them.

* * *

Sherlock could not help but feel guilty about what was, what had, and what was going to happen to his friend. After five minutes of looking around the room Sherlock decided he had seen enough now was about to leave, when something caught his eye. Sticking out from under the sheets for the bed was what looked like a business card. But instead of a company name with an address and number to call, there was a picture of a white snake with black diamond's on its back, and on the other side of the card, written (typed rather) in red letters: **_Let's Play!_**


	4. The Phone Call

Back at the flat 221B, Sherlock and Lestrade were discussing what should be done next. "I already told you Sherlock, none of the other murders had a note, card or anything that had this design on it!" Sherlock had been busy keeping Lestrade from his work by asking him hundred questions about the previews murders, the victims and anything that might be related to them.

Lestrade had taken a seat on the armrest of a chair, while Sherlock was pacing the room. Sherlock, who was wrecking around in his brain, was so consumed in his thoughts that he did not hear the phone ring. Lestrade, sympathizing the poor man, picked it up. "Hello?"

There a gap of 30 seconds of silence until Sherlock had realized that Lestrade had not said another word into the phone."Lestrade?" Sherlock said looking over his shoulder to see if the call was of any importance. "It's...It's for you...Sherlock." Lestrade walked back into the living room and put the phone on Speaker.

"Hello Mr. Sherlock Holmes,"

"John!?"

"Yes and no, this is Dr. John Watson speaking but-"

"But these aren't his words" Sherlock said finishing John sentence.

"I believe you are familiar with this method of communication? Mr. Moriarty has supplied the necessary for our little game." John said is a voice that sounded as if he had just woken up.

"Moriarty? Giving for help? For free? That is very petty." Sherlock said bewildered by the reference to his late enemy.

"You misunderstand me Mr. Holmes, we offered our assistance to Moriarty, and in return, he gave me everything. We have history, Moriarty and I. If it we're not for that fact that Moriarty had already started a game with you...I would have already killed you and Dr. Watson." John said now sounding fully awake and clam.

"You're really that good?" Sherlock said amusingly.

"Enough small talk, now listen carefully Mr. Holmes, because I will not repeat myself."

There was silence that lasted for 15 seconds, and then John spoke up again.

"A Forest, a forest filled with Diamonds, rubies, pearls and emeralds. Bought, Sold and polished. Find the Forest and you find me"

Before Sherlock could say anything the phone cut off.

"Well what the hell do you make of that?" said Lestrade.

"Our First Clue"

* * *

Lestrade was driving as Sherlock was busy typing away on his phone. "So, you have any idea where-"

"Turn left here" Sherlock injected before letting Lestrade finish. "I'd take that as a yes, so then, where are we of to?"

"The only forest with Diamonds and rubies and Pearls and-" this time, Lestrade interrupted Sherlock. "Ummm, Sherlock, you do know that those things don't come from a forest right? They have to be mined, well, except for pearls which come from-"

"Yes, I know where they come from. But you weren't listening to the other half, 'Bought, Sold and polished'. There's a Jewelry store called 'The Forest' about 15 minutes from here, but they're planning on knocking it down to build a mall or something. So if you value John Watson's life I suggest you step on it!" Sherlock said this last part with a hint of anger mixed in it.

Lestrade obeyed the consulting detective and almost slammed his foot on the accelerator, he also called up back up it stop the construction ASAP.

* * *

When they finally arrived, they police force had gotten there first and was able to hold off the wrecking until Lestrade got there. The building was old, worn and dark, to any normal person walking by, it would have looked abandon. "Lestrade, care to enlighten us about the situation? You didn't give us much details over the phone." said Donavon walking over to Lestrade and Sherlock who were standing in front of the building.

"You take care of...this," Sherlock said waving a hand towards Donavon. "I'll find John."

"Sorry Sherlock, I can't let you go in alone, we have no idea what's in there and if there a bomb or some kind of trap-" Lestrade said, but Sherlock wasn't listening, he was more forced on finding his friend. "Wait!" called Lestrade who had gone back to his car to grab a small black idem. "Could be dangerous, take this with you" he said handing Sherlock a walkie-talkie. "And call us if something happens, this is John remember, you of all people should know it's not worth keeping your pride then losing him."

"I know" Sherlock said almost in a whisper, and went inside the store to find his blogger.


	5. Tired, but not Sleepy

As Sherlock walked into the darken room he whipped out a flashlight that Lestrade had given him. He scanned the room and found it almost completely empty except for a flip phone lying on the floor in front of two doors at the back of room. As Sherlock went to go pick it up, it began to ring.

"Hello?"

"I must say I'm surprised that Lestrade didn't get that one, it was one of my easier ones, Mr. Holmes."

"Ah, John, how are you doing?" Sherlock said in fake pleased sounding voice. He could almost guess what was too happen next.

"As you may have noticed, there are two doors. You can only choose one."

There a deafening silence that lasted for only 30 seconds, but for Sherlock, it felt like a lifetime. Then John spoke up again.

"In one door is your dear John Watson, and the other, a surprise. Choose wisely, for each room affects each other."

Silence again.

"If you choose the one with Mr. Watson in it, you can walk out freely without a trouble from me or my men. But if you choose the other...well, if I told you that would ruin the surprise."

Then the phone went dead.

* * *

Sherlock stared hard at the two doors, there had to be something that would give a clue on which door to pick.

Nothing, for once the brilliant consulting detective couldn't find anything, which was rather irritating him. If he couldn't see anything, then maybe he could use his other senses to find something. He placed his ear to the one door, nothing, then to the other, nothing. The thought had occurred to him that they must have threatened John not to make a sound. He tried looking under the door, (now he felt childish), but still found nothing. The two doors were exactly the same in every way; they were painted the same color, they had the same doorknob, same everything!

He closed his eyes and stood in total silence...wait...what was that? A small noise? A sounded like...shuffling, like someone was purposely making the smallest amount of noise as possible. 1) It was John. 2) It was a gang member getting the 'Surprise' ready. Either way, both could get him to John. So Sherlock reached out and went to open the door to the left. But wait, both rooms affected each other, which meant if he choose the wrong door, he could he killing John. Then again, would the gang actually try and pull such an obvious tick? Making noise to sound like someone was trapped in there trying to get out. Sherlock decided to take that chance.

He slowly opened the door.

* * *

On the other side of the door was a long hallway with one door at the end of it. Walking ever so slowly trying not to make a sound, he approached the door and cautiously turned the door handle.

*BOOM*

* * *

The explosion was so big that it knocks Sherlock back into the hallway. Once Sherlock was back on his feet and the smoke cleared, he raced into the room to find a dead body.

no. no. No. No. NO!

As he stared in shock at the dead body, he tried to notice ever way that how this body did not resemble John, but his own eyes betrayed him, instead, they searched and found every way this man _did_ resemble John Watson.

Blonde hair. Short, He had obviously been in the military; He was wearing the same clothes he had last seen John in. Why had he decided to take that chance? Why didn't he call Lestrade and ask for help. Why hadn't he-...Oh hello, what's this?

Sherlock now noticed two things, 1) this man _was not_ Dr. John Watson, because this man, now that Sherlock looked closer, had no scar. 2) The flip phone began to ring.

* * *

"Pick the wrong door now did we?"

"John, where is he? Is he ok? TELL ME NOW!"

John gave a deep sigh, he sounded almost disappointed, a sigh that clearly said 'Sherlock you idiot! How could you miss something this big?'

"Look to your right" was all John said. And Sherlock obeyed, but nothing could prepare him for what he was about to see.

On the right side of the room, there was a window made of clear plastic that took up almost the entire wall. And on the other side of this widow, was a matching white room to the one Sherlock was now in. And sitting inside the room, was a John Watson, tied to a chair, with a phone stripped to his ear.

Then the worst happened.

Two men suddenly appeared in the room and untied John and throw him out of the chair and onto the ground. John looked almost lifeless, tried, it was obvious he hadn't slept, eaten, or drank anything since his abduction. One of the men held John's head with one hand and opened his mouth opened with the other. The second men forced something down John's throat. John gagged as they forced him to swallow. Then, as one men held him down, the other kicked John in the stomach, another blow was soon followed aimed at his knees.

Sherlock nearly lost it at the sight. John was losing consciousnesses, and fast. Sherlock winced at the first sight of blood; he flipped out the walkie-talkie and yelled into it for Lestrade. He at first thought for a second at breaking the glass, but seeing how thick it was, he knew he would never get to his friend in time. So he ran out of the door and tried the second door. It was locked.

"Sherlock, what in god's name is going-"

"SHUT UP AND GET THIS DOOR OPEN NOW!"

Sherlock didn't have time for this; he needed to get to John now!

Lestrade called over a few of his men and within a couple of seconds the door came toppling down. Sherlock ran down the hallway which was the same as the one behind the other door. At the end of the hall there was door, just as Sherlock expected. The door was surprisingly unlocked, but as the men entered the room, they found it empty with only some blood stains left behind as a reminder of what had happened.

* * *

As they left the room Lestrade demanded an answer. "Two doors, one with John and the other with a 'surprise', which reminds me Lestrade, there's a dead man in the other room; I suggest we find out who exactly he is. But never mind, now that I think about it, he's probably nobody. Anyway back to the important stuff, the gang took John; I'm guessing they're going to use him as insurance next. This was just to show us what they can do, which in my opinion isn't much but simply make a man suffer, anyone can do that."

"Hold on a sec, did you say there was a dead man in the other room?" Lestrade said interrupting Sherlock ramble. Lestrade ordered a couple of his men to check it out. He and Sherlock now walked out of the room, Lestrade feeling defeated, and Sherlock feeling...Anxious? Nervous? No, definitely not nervous. He was going through in his head the possibilities of what the gang's next move could be. Would they show off again? Commit another murder? Steal something? What was it they wanted?

As Sherlock was about to leave the building, he noticed a note in the far corner of the room, hiding in the darkness, it was almost like it was laughing at him. He put his gloves on and picked the paper up. After reading it, he mentally smacked himself.

The note read:

_He was always RIGHT next to Sherlock, always._

RIGHT, as in the door on the right. Sherlock was now furious, not only had they kidnapped his best friend, beat him and forced who-knows-what into him, but they made Sherlock look like a fool. Even Anderson could have figured this one out!

The flip phone began to ring, and as usual it was John. But this time, he sounded weak, pathetic, like he was dying.

"This bit was for Moriarty... the very last time I saw him he asked that if we were ever to come against you to send you his love and asked us to do this one favor, MAKE SHERLOCK HOLMES LOOK LIKE A FOOL...Soon, Mr. Holmes...Soon you shall see...what we really have in store for you..." John's voice was now fading.

"JOHN! JOHN HANG IN THERE!”

Sherlock stopped and recollected himself, "Now you listen to me, when I find John, and believe me I will, I will make your life a living hell for the rest for your miserable existence!"

Lestrade and his men were now starring at Sherlock; somehow they all know who he was talking to.

"Soon Mr. Holmes, soon..." and with that finally 'Soon' John's voice finally faded away and the phone was cut off. That finally 'Soon' echoed in Sherlock's head. He would never admit it, be it stabbed him, and made him want to stab someone.

"Was...that them?" Asked Lestrade, who had now appeared by his side. Sherlock only nodded.

"Right...Anything we need to know? That will...you know...help us find him?" Lestrade asked nervously. Sherlock shook his head as he stared as the phone in his hand.

"Okay then, we'll work on trying to find out whose body that was in the room and see if we can find anything else. I'll call you if we find anything" Lestrade said as he walked off. Sherlock only nodded again, trying to process what had just happened to him. As he wondered off the scene, he had all intentions on walking home, but, just like magic, a black car appeared by his side.

"Get in" a familiar voice said, it was Mycroft. Sherlock might have protested, but he didn't, his mind was far too busy processing what had just happened, how he could have stopped it, what was he going to do next, what might the gang do next, what were they going to do with John?

They two man didn't exchange greeting, didn't talk about how childish each one was, what Sherlock needs to do, or how Mycroft was failing at his diet. No, neither one said a word to each other, and soon, Sherlock found himself in front of 221B Baker Street, and that was where Mycroft decided to speak. Not to tell Sherlock what to do, not to tell him he needs to be more cautious, but only

"Get some sleep Sherlock, or at least try, have Mrs. Hudson make you some tea, and please, do eat something."

With that Mycroft closed the door and left Sherlock standing in front of his own door.

 _This is useless!_ Thought Sherlock, _worrying about him won't bring him back!_ Sherlock surprised himself and actually did ask for some tea, which Mrs. Hudson did make him. And also to Sherlock surprised, he found himself lying in bed.

But of course, he did not sleep.


	6. A Cup of Tea at the Morgue

It had been 3 days since the incident at the abandoned Jewelry shop and nothing, no phones calls, no notes, no cases that somehow was connected to it, nothing! Sherlock couldn't decide he was either worried, nervous or board. _Nervous? About what? What’s there for you to be nervous about? Nervous that you might fail? No, nervous about John? No, if anything, worried about John. Maybe I am board? Board yet worried? Hm, that's new, I must experiment with this later once John is back, and maybe I'll even ask him about it._

Finally, after hours of pacing, and his 5th cup of tea, Sherlock's phone buzzed. "Lestrade? Is it him? Have you heard anything?"

"Hello? Sherlock? Yeah it's me, Listen about the body; we think we have found who is it."

"What? Who?" Sherlock said into the phone. _Finally! **SOMETHING** is happening!_

"You see, that's the thing Sherlock, I think it'd be better if you came down here." Lestrade's voice sounded tired and weak, something must have happened, something...not good? "I'll be down in less than 10 minutes." Sherlock said before hanging up. Sherlock turned to his Skull, "Looks like there's work to be done!"

He quickly threw his coat on and wrapped his scarf around his neck. Sherlock was about to fly out the door when he bumped into Mrs. Hudson on his way out.

"Sherlock, where on earth are you-"

"Sorry Mrs. Hudson, news from Lestrade. I'll be back...later" He said placing a kiss on the side of her head.

"Oh Sherlock, now get going and bring our John back!"

* * *

Sherlock was sitting in a cab when his cell rang again, this time it was Molly.

"Not now Molly, Lestrade has already called informed me about the-"

"Sherlock...help..." Molly whispered into the phone.

"Molly? What's wrong? Where are you?" Sherlock was at the end of his nerves, first John is kidnapped, then Lestrade calls, and now Molly! What next?!

"They...They came for the body...I wouldn't...I didn't let them take it, Sherlock! I just wouldn't! But...but they-" Molly's words got cut off with her sob.

"Molly, is Lestrade with you?" Sherlock remember that Lestrade had also said something about this mysterious body of the fake John.

"Yes...but they knocked him out, but Sherlock, we're trapped, they locked me in the-" Molly's phone went dead before she could finish.

* * *

Sherlock sat in silence; both Molly and Lestrade had attacked, but why? Why was the body important? And if it's so important why would they risk Sherlock finding it in the first room? Had they expected him to find John? And if they knocked out Lestrade why didn't they knock out Molly? Where was Molly? She said she was stuck, but where?

 _THINK SHERLOCK!_ He yelled at himself mentally. " _Remember, what did you hear? You heard a buzzing sound. Now, where or what in a morgue is there a buzzing sound? Machines! Good, now what kind of machine? They attackers needed to get Molly out of the way, so where-"_

Sherlock's thoughts were interrupted by the cabbie that had now been parked outside for over 5 minutes. Sherlock handed him money and went inside.

"Molly? Lestrade?" he called out, maybe by the time he got there Lestrade had already woken up, he needed the information from him about the body! "SHERLOCK! IN HERE!" even though Molly was yelling, to Sherlock it sounded far off. "MOLLY?" He yelled waking into the morgue.

"Sherlock! Over here!" her voice was getting louder, but she obviously wasn't in the morgue. "MOLLY! WHERE ARE YOU?"

"SHERLOCK! WE'RE OVER HERE!"

Finally Sherlock realized where her voice was coming from. Molly and Lestrade were trapped inside the freezer!

"Don't worry Molly, I'll get you out, is Lestrade in there with you?" He said pressing up against the door. "Yes, but he's still out, we're both alright, nothing serious."  
Sherlock nodded, while scanning the room his eyes caught a thermometer, it was obviously for the Freezer room. And from the looks of it, the temperature for the Freezer room was dropping, and fast. Sherlock, bring the clever genius he was, guessed the code for the lock within 3 minutes. "Sherlock!" Molly yelled from the floor where Lestrade was laying knocked out on her lap.

"Should we call for help I'm mean-" Molly began but Sherlock cut her off.

"Oh no, he'll be fine, just a bump on the head. Now Molly, I need you to tell me everything that happened, and don't leave out a single detail! Well, except for the boring ones, I don't have time for those."

"Right" Molly said with a nodded as she began her story.

"When the body was first brought here I got straight to work on trying to find out who it was, it took me while but I finally found that it was the body of Mr. Nickolas Walls, son of the owner of the 'Babylon Gardens', Lestrade just happened to be down on looking over another body on a different case so I told what I found, he must have found something because he came back here then he called you. But once he hung up three men came here and knock the detective out, when they tried to take the body by force I hide it in the freezer room and switched its tags with another body.

 “They figured out I had switched the tags and threaten to kill me if I didn't tell them where the body was. I called for help and heard a bunch of people coming down, but the gang threw me and Lestrade in here and made a run for it. Whoever it was who was coming down he must have chased after the gang, because...well, they forgot about me..." Molly said that past quietly, knowing that Sherlock would probably, most likely not want to be bothered with it.

"Molly," Sherlock said in a calm and cool voice. "Are you sure you're alright?" Molly was touched by Sherlock trying to act concerned, to her, the fact that he even attempted to try and be concern showed her that Sherlock was not the same man she once knew. The man she once knew, before John Watson came along.

* * *

"Owww, my head...What happened?" Lestrade said as he woke up on a floor of the morgue. "Detective! You're alright! I was starting to get worried!" Molly said as she handed him an ice pack for the bump on his head.

"Of course he's alright, I already told you that!" Sherlock said who had just come back from looking over the body of Nickolas Walls. "I called Donavon and told her about your situation, good news; it seems you've been given the rest of the day off!" Molly said helping Lestrade sit up, his back now  had gone stiff from lying on the floor.

"That’s good," Sherlock said without looking away from the body, "Now you can help me find John, now tell me what you found." Sherlock now got down and squatted next to Lestrade on the floor.

"Hold it now!" Molly said turnings towards Sherlock, "Look, I know you want to find your friend, but he just woke up, and well, I don't think-"

Lestrade now cut Molly off, "No no, Sherlock is right, John is still missing and needs to be our top priority right now. Give me a hand up and tell you all I found out."

* * *

Molly had just walked back into the room carrying three cups of tea, she handed both Sherlock and Lestrade a cup, then sat down to hear Lestrade's story. "You really didn't have to wait up for me..." she said timidly as she took a seat."Of course we did, now your story Lestrade." Although Sherlock never really thought of anyone else, John had told him that he needed to be more considerate of others, Sherlock would have deleted this out of his brain, but two things kept him from doing that. 1) John, at this moment, Sherlock didn't know when he would see his friend again, so he was trying to remember everything John had taught him, and 2) John had taken away his skull and said he would not return it until he learned to be more considerate. Sherlock soon looked for every opportunity to be considerate and got his skull back in less than 2 weeks. This horrifying experience was not soon forgotten about and John was soon punished by Sherlock refusing to speak to with for a week and a half.

"I started investigating Nickolas walls when I found that he what gotten involved with a drug dealership about 2 years ago, everything was running smoothly till about 3 months ago, I don't know what, what he must have done something to upset them. I found 5 different letters to Nickolas all addressed from a company called 'The Import' it's a candle shop with a very excellent reputation, the letters all contained threats that if he gave off certain information, he would pay for it".

Sherlock nodded, he was about to go to the candle shop himself, when Lestrade's phone went off.

"Hello, DI Lestrade" He said almost out of breath, he took a sip with his tea and stopped himself in time before he spit it out all over Sherlock and Molly.

"Ok...yes...Of course, in fact he's right here with me."

Both Sherlock and Molly looked at Lestrade, and then Molly turned to Sherlock.

"Right, give us 10 minutes, bye." With that he hung up and slid his cell back in he's pocket.

"Sherlock, a body has been found outside the candle shop." Lestrade said, obviously still hiding something. Sherlock only nodded.

"And Sherlock...this body…..It’s John.”


	7. Miss Foster

It was dark, he was cold, and he felt nothing that was all John Watson knew. He was lying on floor of a warehouse in God knows where, he heard faint voices, but he couldn't seem to find the bodies that they belonged to. "Oi James look! The doc is com’in round!" John's eyes searched to try and find where the voices were coming from, but everything was in a blur. The doctor tried helplessly to sit himself up, but failed when he found his hands handcuffed to a stake in the ground, and his feet chained to a two other stakes. His whole body ached, he felt as if he were about to be sick, and the chains and handcuffs around his hands and feet didn't help ease the pain from the bruises and cuts on his wrists and ankles.

"Where...where am I?" John said as his vision slowly returned. A man approached the doctor and dropped a rotten apple in front of him.

_Thug, darker skin, bold head, tattoo of a black diamond snake on his left arm._

John mentally made note of anything he could see, which wasn't every much. "Hey Claude," said a high pitched, squeaky voice that came from behind the other thug. "Think we should tell the doctor a little bit about his...'Situation'?"

"Moriarty..." John said breathlessly, and with that one word he seemed to grab the attention of everyone in the room. "What'd you say?" said the thug as he grabbed John by the front of his shirt. "You had me say something…..about Moriarty to Sherlock...why...Moriarty is..." John had to stop between words for a breath, so he was more than happy when someone else finished he's sentence, but that small piece of happiness faded when he saw who it was.

"Dead, yes Dr. Watson, Moriarty is dead." As a woman began to walk forwards as the thugs (or whoever they were) began to step back to make a clear path for her, who ever she was, she must be important.

_Women, black hair, tan skin, in mid 30's or early 40's, probably high up in gang._

_"A_ llow me to explain Dr. John Watson; Moriarty was an old friend of mine. Before he died he left me a large amount of money and enough equipment to start wars. But since it's one of my good days, I won't. In a way, I and Moriarty are alike, we were both interested with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, we simply had different ways of getting to him. Moriarty went through other criminals, I decided to have my own network, the young Mr. Holmes has he's homeless network, I have a gang network."

The woman smiled and stepped closer to John. "My name is Isabella Foster, Head of the Black Diamond Snakes."

Isabella had her long black hair up in a smooth bun; she had diamond blue eyes and smooth tan skin. She was very attractive, and had it not been for the fact that she had kidnapped John, he would have been hitting on.

As John stared up at Isabelle (he was chained to the ground, he had to look up at everyone,) her phone began to ring. "Hello? Miss Foster speaking."

"Oh! Hello Mr. Walls, how are you?" there was a second of silence, and during this time a devilish smile brought itself onto Isabella's face.

"What!? No I hadn't heard, I'm so sorry for your loss Mr. Walls,"

….

"Of course I'll attend the funeral, although things didn't go the way we planned, we were still friends."

If it had not been for that smile, Isabelle would have sounded truly sympathetic. "Good-Bye Mr. Walls, I'll see you on Friday then." When she hung up she turned back to John. "I'm sorry I can't stay long to continue out little 'chat', but it seems I've got to start packing things up a bit. I don't know if my men told you or not but we're move out location soon, and unfortunately, you won't be around long enough to see the new place, it is quite charming!"

Her expression changed from a playful and sarcastic one to a wicked and hateful one. "Sharky! Claude! Take Dr. Watson here to the back room. Tommy, Danny, you two will have the pleasure of killing Dr. Watson AND telling Mr. Holmes."

A high pitched squeal came from Sharky, "But Miss Foster, I wanted to kill him!"

Isabelle only rolled her eyes, "No no Sharky, I have something special planned for you." She handed the one known as Sharky a list, "Do you think you can pick up a couple things from the shop for me?"

Sharky took one look at the list and smiled. "With pleasure!" he said grabbing the list and put it in his pocket. "Claude" Isabelle's voice rang out and the bigger thug came forwards. "After you and Sharky take Dr. Watson into the back room, meet me in the dining hall, I have something important I need to discuss with you."

Claude nodded his hand began to unchain Dr. Watson, who was so weak there was really no need for the chains.

* * *

Claude and Sharky grabbed John and strapped him down onto what looked like a hospital bed, and rolled him down a dark and long hallway. All during the ride down the long hallway, John went in and out of conciseness.

_Sherlock, where are you? So help me if you get yourself hurt before you come rescue me I'll kill you!_

Nothing made sense anymore, who was this Isabella? Who was this Mr. Walls? What funeral? And where the hell was Sherlock!


	8. 'The Import'

As Lestrade and Sherlock rode to the crime scene, they sat in silence. Sherlock was accustomed with this silence, but Lestrade on the other hand found it quite awkward.

"Sherlock.”

No reply.

“Sherlock?"

Nothing.

"SHERLOCK!"

"WHAT!?" Sherlock erupted annoyingly. "The men on the scene, they said that John- the body has strange marks on it." Lestrade said as he kept his eyes fixed on the road. "Lestrade, if it is John, if the kidnappers have hurt him in anyway, I should probably warn you that I might do something...Illegal" Sherlock said as he slides his gloves on. Lestrade's only response was a nod, now he was sure of it, something was wrong with Sherlock. But what was it? Was it that this involved John? No, Sherlock never got this sentimental, not even for John. Did Sherlock know something nobody else did? Lestrade would admit he was not as clever as Sherlock, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that something was wrong with Sherlock.

When they finally got to the crime scene the body was gone, this at first made Sherlock very upset (He almost punched Anderson), but they was relieved to find that the reason was because they body was still alive and was taken to the hospital.

Sherlock stood outside the candle shop and looked at the outside of it.

_30 years old, the building has had multiple owners, and is in need of repairs._

Lestrade was now standing next to Sherlock and the two walked almost in complete sync as they walked up to the door. Lestrade opened the door and let Sherlock in first. It was small store with what looked like bookshelves going around 3 and half of the walls. But these selves were filled with candle with scents from 'Laundry day' to 'Firefly filled sky'. Sherlock sneered at the different scents; Lestrade caught back up to his side and gave a loud sigh. "It doesn't actually smell like Fireflies Sherlock". Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Obviously, it's almost impossible to smell a firefly."

As the two walked up to the checkout desk Sherlock noticed a small bell, he gave the bell a small tap and a small bold headed Russian came nearly running out. "Welcome, Welcome to 'The Import!’ I am sorry for the inconvenience, but at the moment we are closed, but we open again tomorrow morning at 10 a.m.”

Lestrade took out his badge and flashed it at the shop's manger. " Detective Inspector Lestrade, we have some questions we need to ask you.”

The small man nodded still keeping his over-friendly smile bright on his face. "Ahhh, of course! Please, ask whatever you please. My name is Fredrick, please why don't we take this into my office?”

The Russian lead the two men into his office, which was a small room in the back of the store. His office only contained a desk with a leather chair behind it, a filing cabinet, painting of a Russia landscape, a single plastic chair in front of the desk and window behind the desk.

Fredrick took his seat behind his desk and Lestrade took the plastic while Sherlock stood next to him, but he would not resume this position for long. "Now please, what is it you wanted to ask me?"

"Right so-" before Lestrade could say anymore Sherlock jumped in front of him and bought himself right up into the Russian's face. "Tell me everything you know about the body and Nickolas Walls!"

Fredrick gripped the armrests on the chair and leaned back. "I don't know anything! When I opened for business this morning and it was just laying there! And as for this ‘Walls’ fellow I never heard of him!"

Sherlock took one look around the room and at the men, and then turned back to Fredrick. "You're lying, you just came back from a 3 week vacation at the Babylon Gardens, you were planning on staying longer but something came up and forced you to return early. You have a wife and 3 kids; you live in a rather large house and own 2 very expensive cars. You're only the manger of this store so, family owned business, and you obviously can't be making that much money to try and support your family, plus buy a house that large. So now tell me."

Sherlock leaned even closer to the man's face.

"What do you know about the body!?"

Fredrick turned pale. "How...How did you know?" Sherlock straightened up and gave a smirk. Lestrade spook back up, "So then, Fredrick, are you ready to tell what you know? Or would you rather at the Scotland Yard?"

Fredrick began to plea, "Please...I needed the money, I would have lost my house, my family and eventually my life! Please, she told me they would be protected! She promised!"

"She?" As this word escaped Sherlock's lips the manger's face turned red. "I am doomed..."

Fredrick sighed, "Isabelle Foster, I knew her once long ago, I owed her a favor."

Sherlock looked over his shoulder to make sure he was writing this all down, oh how he hated to repeat things.

“When I got into debt I came crawling to her, begging her for help. She told me she had a spot in her system I could fill, but it would come with a price."

"How much?" Lestrade said looking up from his notepad.

Before Fredrick could give an answer, Sherlock beat him to it. "Not money Lestrade, no, Isabelle doesn't work like that, she wants power and control. Tell me Fredrick, which do you feel guiltier of, getting involved in a drug dealership, the murder of an ex-army doctor, or the fact that you cheated on your wife?"

The manager was at the brink of a break down, "Please...Please don't tell Sophia! I'll tell you anything you want! Just don't tell my wife!"

"You're going to tell me everything either way Fredrick! Now tell me what you know about John Watson!" Sherlock was getting frustrated; this man obviously knew something, but what?

Fredrick gave a heavy sigh which seemed to claim his nerves. "I only heard whispers from some of the other men. They said something about Isabelle 'newest obsession'. There was this one man I knew, we use to bring the boxes to the warehouse. He said that he heard his boss say that if Miss. Foster got away with his, he was going to make her his business partner."

Sherlock nodded, "Right, now tell me, who was this man you use to work with?"

"His name was Don, Don Walters, but please, he was a nice man don't do anything to him."

Sherlock spoke as he went to leave, "Lestrade get me anything on this Don Walters, and I will also need the address of the warehouse."

"Right," Lestrade sighed as he got up and walked over towards Fredrick.

* * *

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes, but you'll have to wait out here, Mr. Watson-"

"Doctor" Sherlock said correcting the redheaded nurse.

"DR. Watson in being check over, we ask that you be patient and we'll call you over when he is ready to see you."

_Multiple boyfriends, goes to the pub weekly, is irresponsible when it comes to money, had problems with her mother, possible because her mother cheated on her father...5 times during their 8 year marriage..._

Sherlock was ready to spew out with all this information had Lestrade not come looking for him with some news about the case.

"We found Don Walters and the address to the warehouse, I sent men out to find him and to check out the warehouse. Don gave us the address to the warehouse, we should be getting word back soon about the warehouse but-"

"But the address of the warehouse from Don doesn't match the one Fredrick gave you." Lestrade nodded in agreement with Sherlock.

"So, you've seen John yet?"

"Not yet, I'm guessing he has some broken bones, and I assume that they tortured him so-"

"Mr. Holmes,"

At the sound of the nurses high pitched voice the two men snapped their headed in her direction.

"You may see DR. Watson now."

* * *

It had been a long day filled with sick elderly, over protective mothers and little brats with the flu. Quinn was not in the mood for to deal with yet another over concerned relative. Quinn brushed her curly red hair behind her ear. She had just gotten a call from her soon-to-be ex boyfriend who had found out about her other soon-to-be ex boyfriend.

"This way Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson is starting to wake up so he might be weak and his words slurred, so please, don't over exhaust him." She opened the door the Watson’s room and left to change then was planning to go home to spend a quiet night watching tv.

"Night Quinn!" said a brunette behind a desk, "Night Danielle, see you tomorrow." The brunette gave a small laugh, "Nope! I'm leaving for a holiday tomorrow, see next week!" Quinn gave a fake laugh, "Well lucky you! See you then!"

Quinn was looking forward to cuddling on the couch with her two year old Yorkshire. As she went to open her car door a hand came up from behind her and cover her mouth with a piece of cloth. Quinn was a college student who only working as an intern, but she knew exactly what was to happen next, everything went black.

 

 

 


	9. Wakening

Sherlock sat in silence as he stared at his flatmate who had yet to wake.

**Found the warehouse, turns out Fredrick was telling the truth, Bring Don Walters in for questioning. -LG**

"Sh'lock?"

At the sound of his name Sherlock looked up and walked over to John. "Don't try John, you're safe. They found you outside of a candle store. You're at Bart's, don't and move or anything, you'll probably be in a lot of pain."

John opened his eyes only slightly so he could Sherlock hovering over his bed. "Isa'bel...Fos-"

"Isabelle Foster, yes we know about her, I would be searching for her right now. But I had time for a break so I decided to see how you were doing"

John tried to give a small laugh, but his chest hurt too much. Sherlock went back and took his seat next to John's bed, he knew that ordinary people usually sat and tried to comfort people when they were in the hospital, but Sherlock wasn't sure how to go about it. He wanted to ask John so many questions, but he knew he would only make it worse. To Sherlock's luck his phone went off.

**You can thank me later, just making sure you don't own me any favors -MH**

Sherlock gave a confused face, what on earth could his brother being talking about now?

"Wha-" John began but Sherlock cut him off, "Mycoft, he must be just gotten back from his getting his wisdom teeth pulled out."

As Sherlock was putting his phone away a nurse came in the room. "Dr. Watson? I've been informed that once you are able, we are going to be moving you to a private room."

John gave a small smile, he would have protested saying that this room was perfectly fine, but his throat hurt too much.

Once the nurse finish looking over John’s vitals and had left, Sherlock finally spoke. "That might be the one thing Mycoft is good at."

"Hmm?" John said in response "Repaying his debts." John smiled weakly at his friend, but soon his smiled faded as he reminded something, something important.

"Sh- Shar- Shark-" John's throat began to flare up.

"Shark?" Sherlock repeated,

"Sharky, Clau- Claude, Tom- Tommy."

Sherlock quickly stopped him, "If you're not ready John, don't try." A small part of Sherlock was angry with himself; those names were his next clue! But that's what is friends are suppose to do, right? Make them comfortable and coddle them and all that sentimental stuff.

John raised his eye brow, Sherlock sighed, "Sharky Claude and Tommy right?" John nodded. "Right, I'll give those names to Lestrade, they probably won't do him any good since we only know their first names, but it's better than nothing I suppose."

John now raised both his brows, "...Wow..." He coughed, Sherlock, ignoring him, wiped out his phone. "Do you know this man?" Sherlock put the phone right up to John's face. John looked closely at the picture, it was a picture of a short, bold, And Russian man, and he shook his head as slowly as he could.

"I didn't think so, what about this man?" Now there was a picture of short, tan man with dark brown hair and brown eyes, John shook his head again. "Didn't think so, well I guess they can live then..." Sherlock mumbled that last part.

"What!?" John said as loudly as he could without hurting himself.

"Hmm? Oh, that first man was Fredrick, he is the owner of the candle shop they found you in front of, the second is a man he worked with him whose boss knew Miss. Foster."

John nodded; he began to wonder just how much trouble Sherlock had gotten into while he was gone.

* * *

Sherlock was outside John's private room; they had just gotten him settled in. Sherlock was getting inpatient; Lestrade was supposed to come by to pick him up so he could see the warehouse for himself. Sherlock watched afar, John had fallen asleep and the nurse had just left the room. Everything was so peaceful, quiet, and clam, he hated it. But he knew that's what friend's were supposed to do. He was ready about to call Lestrade and ask where he was when he phone began to ring.

"Hello Mr. Holmes, I'm sorry for not calling sooner, but I've been caught up in some business, you know how it is."

"Miss. Foster I assume?" Sherlock said coldly into the phone.

"Please, call me Isabelle," She said sweetly.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't know, I've never had the pleasure of being a criminal." Sherlock began to walk down the hall away from John's room, the last thing he needed was John worrying about him while he was suppose to be resting.

"Pity, Well Mr. Holmes, I was wondering if we could meet up sometime, I've been dying to see that sexy face of yours with my own eyes for some time now. Oh yes, by the way, that warehouse is completely empty, I made sure my men cleaned it out before they left. How is Johnny doing? I hope my men didn't break him too much."

"Really? Because I was under the impression that you wanted him killed." Johnny, that was what Moriarty use to call John, it was almost sickening.

"Well I admit I did, but good help is soooooo hard to find these days, I was going to have him killed then wrap he up and give him back all dolled up with a big red bow. But it seems my men we almost caught by some copper doing about his rounds. They were annoyingly loud when I had them killed. But not to worry, I won't be making that mistake again. Next, I think I'll keep him."

"When and where?" This woman was twisted, Sherlock was glad John couldn't hear this, he would surely be sick.

"Tomorrow night at the Crystal Moon restaurant at 'The Babylon Gardens'. Where something nice, bye doll." Isabelle nearly chirped then hung up.

"Sir?" Sherlock looked up to see a young nurse, "Yes?" Sherlock said slipping his phone back into his coat pocket.

"There's a Greg Lestrade waiting in front for you," She was nervous, this was obviously her first time. "Ah yes thank you." As Sherlock walked pass her he turned slightly to see one of the head nurses yelling at her, "I swear Daisy! If you don't start paying attention more you're going to get fired! Now listen because this is the last time I'm telling you! The patient in room 413 needs his medicine, he needs-"

"But Mrs. Howard, I just know he's already been given it, if you give him too much it could make him worse-"

"DAISY LOUIS!" The older woman took a deep breath, "If he was given his medicine it would marked off on this paper, and as you can clearly see-"

"She right, if you give him too much more it will make him worse."

The two women turned to see a tall, thin, man standing in the hall. "Please excuse us sir, this is a new employee here and hasn't quite gotten the hang of how we do things here. She's always forgetting who gets what this one!" The older women said with a fake laugh.

"But Mrs. Howard-"

"Not now Daisy!"

"Mrs. Howard is it? Well I can tell you for certain the patient in room 413 has already been given his medicine. If you would just listen to Miss. Daisy here you might have known that."

"Sir, I am the head nurse here, I think I would know which patients have been given what."

"Yes, I would think so too, but if you would look at the papers in your hands you would know that that is the papers for room 513."

Mrs. Howard opened her mouth to yell at Sherlock, but quickly shut it when she realized he was right. "Wha- how-"

"Mrs. Howard I suggest you follow your doctor's orders and get a pair of glasses. I know you've been telling yourself you'll be fine because your eyes 'Aren't that bad', but it would seem they are getting worse and they will continue to do so. Good evening!" And with that Sherlock turned to leave again, leaving Mrs. Howard in shame.

Mrs. Howard quickly felt the scene to attend to another patient, while Miss. Louis standing there looking over her clipboard.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." Sherlock's voice echoed back as he turned around the corner and went to find Lestrade.

* * *

 

 


	10. The Crystal Moon

* * *

Isabelle was right; her men did a wonderful job on making sure everything was cleaned, but not clean enough. Sherlock deduced that the one of the men was from Asia and another was from Africa. He also found that the warehouse had been cleaned about 5 hours ago, and the men most likely had gone back to where it was they came from and that one of the men, most likely the African one, was planning on going on the run soon. He most likely was forced into join their gang and now wanted out.

The night came when Sherlock was to meet Isabelle, he wore his usual suit and made sure to grab John's gun before he left.

The Crystal Moon was a rooftop restaurant on top of the resort. It was a five star and only the famous and richest people got in. But tonight it was empty, all the tables were set, but no one was at them, all except one. A tall, thin, black haired woman was sitting at a table at the far end of the roof.

"Evening Mr. Holmes, I hope I find you well?"

"Please, it's Sherlock, and I assume you must be Miss. Foster, please skip the small talk, I'm due back at the Yard early tomorrow and I would like to have a full nights rest so please, make this quick."

Lie. Sherlock had no intent to get a full night's sleep. In fact, he probably wasn't even going to any sleep tonight. He plans included, having Miss. Foster locked away, finding out the rest of her plans and stopping them and checking up on John one last night, then if he had time, test out a new experiment.

"Isabelle please, how is John doing? Last I hear he was a bit broken."

"He's recovering, but enough about him, I would like to know a bit more about you. I've hear you mention Moriarty a couple of times, how are you related to him?"

"Oh I'm not. I knew him back in high school. We had a complicated relationship, I first met him when I found out he was plotting against our English teacher. I helped him out and every since we've been...allies."

"You were he's lover?"

"Yes and no, I was known to be by our other classmates, but in truth I was nothing more than a pawn in his game. I learned all of his techniques, I did all of his dirty work, occasionally have sex, and because of it he owed me a favor. Right before his death I met up with him, I was to take over his web if anything was to happen to him. But that's when you stepped in, and you took his whole little empire down."

"But that's not why you're here tonight, to avenge his 'little empire'."

"No, I'm very angry with you Mr. Holmes, do you know why?"

Sherlock stopped for a minute, if Isabelle was truly suppose to take over Moriarty's web, why hadn't anyone said or knew anything about this woman? Out of all the men he killed, all the spies and snipers none of them knew what was to happen after Moriarty's death.

"Because I killed Moriarty."

Isabelle gave a sad little laugh, "Yes, but not only that. Moriarty, he….he told me about you. How clever you were, how he was 'distracted' by you."

"And...?"

"He was fascinated with you, Sherlock. I tried, I honestly did, but the more I learned about you, the more I hated you."

"Why? If you're not only here to 'avenge' Moriarty, than why else are you here?"

"Because he turned me down, he flat out rejected me. You brainwashed him, and now I have to stop you."

"So you're blaming me because Moriarty turned you down?"

Isabelle snapped, everything about her twisted, she went from calm and cool, to twisted and Insane. "NOT MORIARTY YOU IDIOT! JOHN WATSON! That moron turned me down! I offered him a chance of a life time! Freedom from a life of disappointment and misery and he turned me down!"

Isabelle sprang forwards, wrapped her hands around Sherlock’s neck and started choking him. “You’re all the same! You’re brilliant and clever! But you’re so stupid! People care for you! THEY NEED YOU! But you push them away AND IT DRIVES THEM INSANE!"

So this was it, Isabelle truly did love Jim Moriarty, but that psychopath was so consumed with crimes that he never noticed her and pushed her away and treated her like just another pawn. And when she learned of Sherlock and John, she obviously thought the same thing was going on between them.

How pathetic.

"DIE SHERLOCK HOLMES! He doesn’t he need you! Oh he doesn’t see it now, but he’ll come around! I’ll make him hate you! I’ll make him rue the day he met you! SO YOU CAN JUST DIE SHERLOCK HOLMES! DIE! DIE! DIE!"

Sherlock was able to stop her from strangling him, but he was having a hard time prying her off his body. She dug her nails into his skin making him bleed. She kept trying to bit him, kick him, and punch him, anything that would cause him pain.

"Miss Foster!" two men came running over, one pulled her off of Sherlock, and the other held Sherlock back. "I think I'll be leaving Miss. Foster, like I said I'd like a full night's sleep, (maybe now that didn't sound so bad, well maybe not a full night's sleep, but at least a couple hours.)

Gathering her senses back, Miss Foster pulled away from the man who was holding her back. "What's the rush Mr. Holmes? Please don't leave yet, I have a special gift for you."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of his ringing phone. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Isabelle said as she turned to her men, "Tommy," The man who was now standing next to her walked over and tool Sherlock's phone out of his pocket and placed it up to Sherlock's ear.

"Hello?"

"Sherlock, its Lestrade." Lestrade sounded a bit frantic as he spoke from the other side of the phone.

"Problem Lestrade? You sound like you've just been given a scare."

"Sherlock, it's John, He's gone."

"What!?...again?"

"Yeah, I've already got all my men working on it, I called Mycroft, he said he's sending some men over to help with the search. We found one of the nurses knocked out and the windows been broken into."

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why knock the nurse out AND break into the window? Was the nurse present when the window was broken?"

"No, she said a man approached her when she went to enter the room and knocked her out."

Sherlock looked up at Isabelle; she had a twisted smile written across her face. "Lestrade, I think I know where he is."

"Oh, really, where? Just give me and address and I'll come at once."

Isabelle walked over and plucked the phone from Tommy's hand. "Hello Inspector, sorry Sherlock can't talk right now. Can I take a message?"

"Who is this? Just tell me what you want and give Mr. Holmes back; I assume you also have Dr. Watson? I'd like him back too thank you very much."

"Sorry Inspector, Dr. Watson is a bit tied up right and Sherlock is, well he's held up at a date right now. Talk to you later."

With that she hung up, "Now, back to you Mr. Holmes," she said getting right up in his face. "Tommy, go see if Dr. Watson is ready."

 

 


	11. Unhappy Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you've already read this on Fanfiction.net you'll notice that this is a bit different. I wasn't happy with how I had first written this (This was my first fanfic, I had no clue what I was doing back than). So I kept to the same plot just reworded somethings and made some points and thoughts more clearer. Other than the whole 'How they met and killed together' with Isabelle and Moriarty, everything else is the same.

* * *

Sherlock soon found himself tied to a chair with a gun pointed at him. "Is this really necessary?"

Isabelle sat in a seat across from him enjoying a glass of red wine. "I'm afraid so, can't take any chances with you Mr. Holmes."

"Hmmm," was the only response Sherlock gave, his neck and throat were beginning to flare up.

Isabelle Foster could remember ever wrong that was ever done to her. Every insult, ever rumor, and ever hit which she received from her abusive father. But there were three events which stood out the most. The first was when she mother abandoned her with her drunken father at age four. The second was the day she met Moriarty. Killer their English teacher wasn’t Isabelle’s first crime. No, but the three event which was the tipping point in her live was the day she did commit her first crime, the day she killed her father. When Isabelle was fourteen years old her father had beaten her with a baseball bat, not only did this cause her trauma, but when she slumped to the ground her head hit a large rock.

Isabelle’s brain was almost like a computer, a computer with a virus. Every once-in-while her brain would ‘short-circuit’. As much as the doctors tried to reason it and make sense of it, the only way to explain it was that she would literally go insane. As these episodes began to lessen, the hospital eventually had to release Isabelle into the care of her father.

It was during one of these episodes that she picked up an axe and hacked her father to death. The court ruled her innocent in that she had no control of her mind and gave her over to her mother to be raised. It was almost fate that the cute-boy-next-door happened to be one Jim Moriarty. As time passed, Isabelle became obsessed with Moriarty.

Jim, although not very interested in Isabelle, saw the advantage of having her as an ally. Four years later and Moriarty had already begun to build his web. It was small, a simple drug gang, but oh would it grow. When their English teacher had one day caught Jim dealing he was planning to report him. Unfortunately that happened to be the same time Miss. Isabelle Foster came down the hall helped Jim dispose of the body. They were able to pin the blame on Isabelle’s mother and Isabelle was considered herself finally ‘free’ from her past

When Moriarty had offered his web to her, she couldn’t refuse. Unknown to Isabelle, was that Moriarty had already considered the fact that Sherlock might have a back-a-plan. Should Sherlock come out on top in the end, no doubt would he come after Moriarty’s web. In the meantime, Moriarty just needed someone to look bad and try and play the ‘Ring Leader’ part until Sherlock finished. And Isabelle Foster was just the idiot to do it.

"Miss Foster," A deep voice said brings her out of her thoughts. "Yes Louie?" she answered sweetly back. "He's here" He answered back, but with no expressions. "Good, bring him in."

Isabelle had a weak spot for boys with cute kiddy names, like Tommy, Danny, and Timmy those were her favorites, and now Johnny. She though back to how Moriarty had allowed her to call him Jimmy. But as the time went on, they slowly grew apart (at least she thought so) and he grew more and more annoyed with her. Until one day he was simply……Bored with her.

She could still remember the day when she came over to his house to find some blonde headed girl sitting on his lap calling him ‘Jimmy’. Isabelle began to wonder how many others he allowed to call him that. How many had there been before her? It was then that she decided to make her own little ‘web’.

If Isabelle could go back, there would be only one thing she would change. That she would have been the one to kill Moriarty.

* * *

 

As the doors flew open Sherlock heard a familiar voice groan with pain. He began to long to turn around to face his friend to see just how bad of a condition he was in. "Turn...me...around..." he said in a hoarse voice when he came to the realization that they were dragging John in.

"Alright boys, place Dr. Watson down right there, oh and Tommy, be a dear and turn Mr. Holmes around."

Sherlock could hear John's arm fall to the ground under his body   with a sickening *Crunch* and then was jerked around by a large man. "Much better, thank you boys that will be all!"

"John...are you alright...can you hear me?" Sherlock tried with all his might to keep his voice calm, cool and stay. But after being attacked by Miss. Foster his voice sounded hoarse, distant and shaken.

"Sher'lck?" John was able to slur out, he looked drained and tired. His eyes had bags under them and he could barely keep them opened. He had bruises all over him from head to toe, and a swollen black eye.

"Dr. Watson, how good of you to join us! I was just telling Sherlock here about out little talk earlier."

"Le...Sh'lock...go..." John slurred out with whatever strength he could muster up.

"I'm sorry John, but I'm afraid Sherlock can't go. No, he can't go anywhere."

Isabelle turned her back to the two and mutter to herself. "This is it; this is what everything I've done has been for. This is where MY reign begins, this is only the start, and I will not stop, not until those stupid, idiotic morons know the true fullness of my wrath."

Isabelle sun around back to the two men, "Right then, the show must go on!" Her blacks heels clicked loud as she walked past Sherlock and over towards John. "Let's start with you," she said as she knelt down next to him.

"TOMMY, TIMMY! Take Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson out to the back, IT STARTS TONIGHT!"

 

* * *

 


	12. Rejection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did John's body come be in front of the candle store? Why was he left barely alive and not killed completely?

To John it was only an unhappy memory, to Isabelle, it was the night she truly began to hate Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

 John's hand and feet were both bound, he was pretty sure he was chained to something, be he was so drugged up and beaten up that he could hardly tell where he was. He was starting to drift back in unconsciousness when he heard the sound of heels clicking against the hard concert floor coming towards him.

"Now now Dr. Watson, please try and stay awake, I have some business to discuss with you."

John looked up at the woman who was now standing in front of him. Had he seen her before? Yes, yes he had. Isabelle that was her name wasn't it?

_Jet black hair put up in a messy bun, green eyes, tan skin, black skirt, lacy bright pink top,_

"What...do you...want?" John said gasping for air. Isabelle gave a hearty laugh, "You, Dr. John Watson, I want you to be my ally. I want you to trust me so I can trust you. I want you and only you, Dr. John Watson."

John was too weak to say anything back, no he need his strength later, and oh how he wanted to make some snappy remake. "Now tell me Dr. Watson, when was the exact moment when you decided to put your trust Mr. Holmes? Was it when you show his gift? Was it when he used it on you? Or was it when you found out he has no friends? Do tell me."

Sherlock? Yes, Sherlock Holmes, my friend, best friend, leaves body parts around the flat, plays the violin in the middle of the night, consulting detective, John thought as he reminded himself. He’s head was still in a blur, everything was fuzzy and the room seemed to be spinning.

"For me," Isabelle began as she started walking in a circle around John; she was like a vulture circling its dying prey. "It was back in high school, out English was a strict man, they say that he use to be a cop. And once he found out that Moriarty was dealing drugs he was going to turn him in."

John was starting to see better, he could see the disgust on Isabelle's face as she thought back on memories. “It was chance really, that I happen to be passing by. Jim killed him, I helped him hide the body and pin the blame on someone else. Everyone just assumed he was an old enemy just getting revenge."

John was now lying on his back staring up at Isabelle, what could she possibly want him for? If not to get at Sherlock, then what? He was an ex army doctor, sure he had some training, but if Isabelle really wanted someone with military training she could get them almost anywhere. Why an ex army doctor who had been injured? It didn't make sense.

Isabelle could see a questioning look on John face, "Just in case you're wondering, this has nothing to do with your precious Sherlock Holmes. No my Dear John, this has everything to do with your loyalty, your trust, your faith.”

John struggled to sit up, he wasn't sure what it was, but he leaned up against something which helped so he wouldn't have to tilt his head so much.

"What...do...you...want?" John said breathlessly, he still had no idea what she wanted.

"I'll make it simple John, join me or die; either put your complete trust in me or die. Sherlock doesn't want or need you, but I do, John, I do. I'll look after you John; I'll be everything Sherlock couldn't!"

John shook his head and took a deep breath, "You're just as insane as Moriarty! If you seriously think that I'd-"

*SMACK*

John's right cheek began to burn as Isabelle's hand collided with John's cheek, whatever it was he leaning up against, he banged his head on it.

"No one, NO ONE, says no it me! My dear John Watson, I thought you were different." Isabelle bent down and stroked her hand over the cheek she hit. "I thought you were special, but no, you're just like all the rest! They amaze you, make you think that maybe you do have a purpose in life. But now you listen to me John, because I know what it's like. And before you know it, they've moved on, they because bored with you, but they don't have the heart to tell you, mostly because they don't have one at all!"

John shook his head, his vision was finally completely back, and he looked over and saw he was leaning on some pole which he was chained to. "You’re...You’re insane!"

Isabelle just smiled, "I've known Moriarty since high school, I've his most trusted ally, I'm the one who he turned his web over it, of course I am!"

"BOOOOOOYS!" Isabelle nearly sang out, two large men appeared next to Isabelle. "He's useless to me now, take him away and dispose of him, take him somewhere no one will find him and kill him. Make sure no one finds him until AFTER you've killed him, I don't want any witnesses."

"Yes Miss. Foster" The two said in one accord, then unchained John and dragged him away.

* * *

 

So there in a dark alley, two men began their dirty work.

"Are you sure about this Sharky? Miss. Foster specifically told me and Tommy to kill him; don't you have something to get for Miss. Foster? I saw her give you a list?"

Danny was a fairly tall man with pale skin and bright baby blue eyes. He was naturally a good person, gave money to homeless people, did time in the army, and never cheated, not in a relationship or in a game (Only once, and that was in a poker game where $10,000 was on the table, he was not going lose!). He never did like to kill, but he was more scared for his life.

Sharky on the other hand was a short almost bold man. He had lost almost all his hair and on top of being short he slouched. He was quick to get any chance to do anything that had dirty work. He wanted to get Miss. Foster's attention, all long as he stayed on Miss. Foster's good side; he knew he wouldn't have to worry about his life.

"I gave the list to Tommy, now come one! Let’s get on with it!"

Danny shook his head, "Don't be so quick to soak your hands in someone's blood, that's what my mate from the army told me. I don't kill for fun; I don't kill when it's personal, but when it’s either you or them, that's a whole different story."

After those words is when it started, that's when they started beating him, Sharky did most of the beating, Danny might get a punch or kick in, but he found that with each blow his stomach felt worse and worse. John was nearly beat to death when Danny heard someone coming. As Sharky continued beating John, Danny walked slowly over to corner and looked over the side, a cop was coming round.

"I TOLD YOU THIS SPOT WAS NO GOOD!" Danny said nearly running over Sharky. "This spot is as good as any!" Sharky said without stopping from his 'work'.

Danny looked down at the doctor, he looked dead enough. "He’s dead Sharky!" Danny looked around and saw a candle store not too far away. He recognized it as a store owned by another one of Isabelle's man, some Russian if he remembered correctly. Yes, that's right, Fredrick owned this store. Fredrick had married Danny's sister. Danny could still remember the day when he found out Fredrick had an affair, Fredrick thought no one knew, but they did. Fredrick might not have known, but his co-works did. Danny hated this man, he might not kill when it was personal, but he still would get revenge. He would put the spot light on Fredrick and make him pay.

"Come on, we'll leave the body over there."

Danny and Sharky lifted John Watson's unconscious, but alive, body over to the candle shop and left him there to bleed to death.

As the cop came around the corner he noticed a blood spots on the ground. Danny and Sharky were lucky enough not to get any blood in front of the alley, but there was some that lead over to the candle shop. Soon enough he saw the body, looking over it he noticed it matched a description of a missing Dr. John Watson and soon called the Yard.

Afar watching from another building was Danny and Sharky. "Are you sure he was dead?" Danny asked Sharky, "Ha! I'd bet my life on it!"

"Well that's good," Danny said as they turned to leave, "Because if he isn't, it will cost our lives."

 


	13. Never Never Ever Ever Again

Mrs. Hudson was sipping a hot cup of tea; she hadn't heard anything from or about her boys for a couple of days now. It did make her a bit nervous, but this wasn't the first time this sort of thing has happened, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. As she took another sip she looked over the ad she was going to put in the paper for 221C. One bedroom, one bath, kitchen, living area, was she forgetting anything?

As she was about to take another sip she phone rang. Sherlock had once tried to get her a cell phone once; he probably had hid one in house for in case of emergencies even. But she never used the phone all that much so she always liked to use her house phone.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson?" said a familiar voice on the other end. "Yes, this is her speaking, who is this?"

"It's Greg Lestrade, from the Scotland Yard?"

"Oh yes, hello dear, how are you? Have the boys gotten into more trouble?" Although Mrs. Hudson was a little mad at Lestrade after Sherlock's 'death', she knew it wasn't his fault and he couldn't have helped it that he had to arrest him, it was his job after all. She had forgiven him in time.

"Yeah, a bit. I don't mean to bother you, but when you get the time, could you possible bring Sherlock and John a change of clothes? They’re currently at St. Bart’s, they both got a bit nicked up, nothing too serious, although I’m not sure when they’ll be able to leave.”

Lestrade gave a small laugh, over time he grew to like Mrs. Hudson very much (honestly, who didn't?). Although he never admitted it, he was relived a little once she told him she had forgiven him after the fall. Another thing that he never admitted was that in his opinion, she made the best tea in the world.

He heard a small sigh come from the woman, "Of course dear, I'll be over as soon as I can."

"You really are a saint Mrs. Hudson! See you soon than."

"See you too dreary!"

As she hung up she gave a small, not annoyed but more amused, sigh. "Those two will be the death of me!" she said she happily as she climbed the stairs to the boys flat.

* * *

John Watson was tied up tight and thrown into a corner; they were still at the 'Babylon Garden'. One man stood with a gun pointed at John guarding him nearly blocking his view of Sherlock. Part of him wanted to move to keep Sherlock in sight. But part of him was glad he couldn't see, because he knew, somehow deep down inside, Isabelle wouldn't just kill him. No, she was like a cat, she would play with her prey, and then kill it.

When Sherlock was completely out of his view, all he could hear was what sounded like a whimper. No, Sherlock doesn't whimper, Sherlock could face pain; sure he had heard him groan in pain, but whimper, that was something Sherlock didn't do.

John leaned back on the wall or the floor; he wasn't sure which one he leaned one. His body ached with pains, it would hurt it tried to move even the slightest bit. Trying to save Sherlock was out of the question.

Mycroft.

Surly he would have noticed something was wrong by now. It felt at time he had the tapes for every security camera in London. So where was he? John, dazed and near the point of passing out, gave a quick scan around the room. No, just as he thought, no security cameras.

John went to open his mouth to call out to Sherlock, but no sound would come out. What good would it do anyways? Perhaps he just wanted to let Sherlock know he was still alive, or maybe perhaps, he wanted to make sure Sherlock was still alive.

As the man who was beating Sherlock stepped away, Isabelle walked over and kicked him in the stomach, simply for the pleasure of it. Then she bent down and whispered so only Sherlock could hear.

She stood up and spoke out loud, "If you can physically wound someone, the worst you can do is either scar them, hurt them in a way that they can never heal, or kill them. Killing them right away is no fun. No, but mentally hurting them, mentally wounding them so they can't heal, mentally killing them. You don’t only ruin them, but you turn them into a whole different person."

"Is that what you want?" Sherlock said as he gasped for air. "Because I don't think so, you wanted John to join you because you thought he would understand...” Sherlock spoke, stopping to take deep breaths, be tried to keep himself from panting.

“You wanted to 'save' John from the hurt and pain you went through…But you also now believe that I've convinced him stay loyal to me…You don't want to turn me into a different person, no, you liked Moriarty for who he was, and changing him would have only ended with you being hurt. So, therefore…. you don't want to hurt John, and changing me would do just that. So now tell me, what is it you really want?"

Isabelle smile gave a maniacal laugh, "Oh no Mr. Holmes, you don’t seem to understand. I'm going to mess you up in every way possible. John Watson on the other hand, once you're gone, will be mine. I can make him turn, eventually, sooner or later. No I won't kill him, but I will push to the edge and back. And that cycle will continue over and over and over, until one day, when he finally has had enough, when his strength begins to fail him, he will give himself over to me, and he will be mine and mine alone."

"Do you seriously think I would join you?"

Both Isabelle and Sherlock were surprised at John injection in their conversation.

"The 'web' you were given by Moriarty is practically falling apart. You tried to have me killed and now you're trying to kill my best friend. Why on earth would I join you!?"

"Because you won't have any other choice."

"I can always die. Maybe not by your hand, but like you said, my strength will eventually fail me. And when it does I won't give up to you, no, if anything, I'd let myself die first!"

Isabelle walked over to John and bent over so that she could stare him in the face. "You know it's funny, a few years ago I said those same words about Moriarty, and now look where we are. He won't always be there for you John, he can't, you know that don't you?"

John looked her straight in the eye and said "I won't always need him, and that's okay, just as long as he knows I WILL always be there for him."

* * *

Isabelle couldn't take it; no matter what she did they just wouldn't cooperate! Why couldn't John see that this was best for him? Why couldn't he see what Sherlock had done to him? She remembered what it was like with Moriarty.

There was that one night, that one night when he had taken her out to dinner and then to the theater. Afterword's, he had walked her home, he had his arm around her waist and his coat was around her. As she walked up the steps to her front door she dug through her purse and got her keys out. As she opened the door she went to take one step into her house when she turned around. She invited him inside, so sure where she was going to go from that. Instead Moriarty walked up to her, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

Ever time Moriarty had kissed her, it had been filled with force, it was demanding, it was hard, but she loved it. This was different; it was soft, gentle and sweet. She could still taste the wine from that evening lingering on his lips. That single moment felt like it could go on for all eternity, but all in all that was all it was, a moment. A moment she would give her life up in a heartbeat if she could have it again.

That moment, just the thought of it drove her mad. He had used her! That kiss, that wonderful, amazing, heart melting, beautiful, perfect, malice, maniacal, betraying, evil, beastly, hateful kiss! It was all part of his plan, and she had fall right into it! No! She would not let that happen again to anyone else! Even if she had to kill John, she was going to keep him safe from the evil Sherlock Holmes!

And in that moment Isabelle snapped, and this time for good. She turned and jumped on top of the already weak and wounded Sherlock. "This is your fault!" she screamed as she throws her fists down on his face. She put her hands around his neck and tried to strangle him. "Not again! NEVER again! NEVER…. NEVER…. EVER…. EVER AGAIN!"

As she crawled on the floor off of Sherlock, her jet black hair fell over her face covering it like a vial. "YOU!" she barked at the man who was previously beating Sherlock. "Hold down Sherlock Holmes!"

She got up and trudged over to John, she looked like an insane zombie. Her hair was a mess, she eyes were huge yet hollow and she looked paler than ever.

"Don't worry John, I'll keep you safe, and Sherlock, that mean and evil Sherlock Holmes will never be able to harm you EVER AGAIN! NEVER…. NEVER EVER… EVER!"

She drew out a knife that she had strapped to her leg under her dress. She raised it above her head and pointed it down at John. "Don't worry, this will only hurt a little bit, but then it will be over, and he will never be able to hurt again, Never… Never… ever… ever." She said in a sweet sing-song voice.

* * *

Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Isabelle brought the knife down, Sherlock bite, kicked and squirmed his way out of the man's arms. But he hadn't made it in time to stop Isabelle.

John felt it, a hot and burning pain in his arm. He looked over; a knife was dug into his skin. His head grew light and he began to lose feeling in his right arm. "Sh'lock" he managed to get out before he fell onto his back.

Everything was beginning to blur, "John? John!" A far off and distance voice said.

Sherlock struggled to try and get over to his friend, but he was holding Isabelle back, plus her two goons were now taking out their guns. "Do you really think I would let you and him get away that easy? DO YOU!?"

John was slowly fading, he suddenly heard yelling. Now there were others in the room, bodies began to fill the roof top. People began to point guns at people. Which were friend and which were foe, John could not tell anymore.

"John!?" A familiar voice was now ringing in his ear. Sherlock's voice. He felt someone lifting him in their arms.

_No Sherlock, leave me to rest, can't you see I'm tired, please let me rest? Please?_

* * *

The men from the Scotland Yard now filled the roof top. "About time!" Sherlock yelled as Lestrade and his men began drawing their guns towards Isabella and her men. Luckily, neither of Isabella’s men was stupid enough to shot at anyone, they were obviously out numbered.

Rights were yelled and handcuffs were taken out. Within seconds the scene was under control and criminals immobilized. If you were to ask Sherlock later he won’t have been able to tell you exactly what happened other than Lestrade and his men showed up, for as relief flooded him, Sherlock because unaware of the scene around him.

As soon as Isabelle had cuffs around her wrists and was being taken away Sherlock rushed over to his friend's side. "Sherlock? Oh god, is he okay? What did they do to the two of you?"

Lestrade was now by Sherlock's side, "Don't worry, an ambulance is on its way, just keep him awake!"He instructed.

 _This is it_ Lestrade thought in his head, _this is what Sherlock knew! John...isn't going to be ok, is he?_

"Sherlock, you need to tell me everything. You know something, I know you do."

_Oh god, and the other day when he was being all...human...when he was around me and Molly, he was looking probably freaking out, thinking he had lost another of his friends…._

"Sherlock?"

 


	14. All The Answers

Both John and Sherlock were admitted into the hospital, but were separated once they saw how much worse a state John was in. Sherlock was lucky enough to get away with only a few cracked ribs and some serious bruising, but they feared John would not be as lucky.

Lestrade was the first to visit Sherlock, he took a seat next to the bed Sherlock was in and asked Sherlock to explain to him all that had happened.

"Ok Sherlock, walk me through, because I really have no clue what's going on anymore."

"Back at the Jewelry store, when I picked the wrong door, two men forced John to swallow something. After his second disappearance, when we didn't hear back from him in 3 days; I spent that time trying to find out what exactly they gave him."

"And what did you find?"

“As you probably know, I and John were investing killings that have all happened at The Babylon Gardens across the globe. We found that these attacks were by a group called the ‘Black Diamond Snakes’. Their leader, a woman names Isabelle Foster, has been organizing numerous criminal acts, one of which was smuggling. If you remember Fredrick, the candle store manager, and his buddy were smuggling stuff for Miss. Foster.

“Well, what I found was that they were smuggling in drugs hidden in crates filled with wine. Wine that is specifically used by the Babylon Gardens. I looked into this and found that the resort’s ‘club special’ was ordered by Nickolas Walls, the son of the owner of the Babylon Gardens. But something happened, I haven’t yet figured out what but something happened that made Nickolas Walls want to back out. Of this out raged Miss. Foster had Fredrick send Mr. Walls threats, and when those didn’t work she sent out her men to kill his top most paying members. That did nothing as well, so Miss. Foster had him killed.

“I hadn’t realized it at first, but our waiter at the resort, whose name was Fredrick, is the son of the candle store manager, whose name is also Fredrick. Fredrick the junior, who I’m assuming found out mine and John’s true intentions, warned Miss. Foster who sent her men to kidnap John.”

“Alright, yeah that makes sense. Just one more thing, early, when you were on the phone, you were question why Miss. Foster would have that nurse knocked out. You got an answer for that as well?”

“Well obviously Lestrade, they needed someone who knew which room John was in. honestly inspector I thought even you could have figured that one out! But anyways before you lock Miss. Foster up I would have her tested for insanity, I don't think she is completely yet, she is on the edge of it which could interfere with having her lock away.”

“Okay, but….you still haven’t said what it was that John was forced to swallow-“

The two men were interrupted by a nurse entering the room. As Sherlock looked her over he realized it was the nurse from early, the one who had been yelled at. What was her name?....Daisy was it?

"Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes?"

Daisy Louis, that was her name. Sherlock could see it printed onto her nametag which hung from her white uniform.

"Dr. Watson is being operated one as we speak. His doctor’s say they found a type of poison they were not able to identify. They were able to find the source of the poison and extract it from Dr. Watson. Unfortunately Dr. Watson is still unstable and the doctor’s aren’t very positive about his recovery. The poison although its symptoms aren’t quite clear yet, has taken great affect on Dr. Watson.”

Sherlock only nodded solemnly, the poison was mostly likely the missing piece of the puzzle. Nickolas Walls probably found out about it and that was what made him want to back out. The poison was also most likely the stuff they forced John to swallow back at the old Jewelry store.

“Also, we received a phone call requesting you and Dr. Watson be given private rooms. So once you are feeling well enough, let us know and we’ll move you.” With those final words she left the room leaving the two men alone.

* * *

Sherlock was alone as he lay in his bed in the private room. He could honestly careless where he was, there was too many thoughts running through his mind.

Since Daisy’s first visit she hadn’t anymore news about John. But had deemed Sherlock well enough to be moved to the private room Mycroft (honestly, who else could it have been) had gotten for them. Sherlock was pleased to see that the room had two beds in it.

Besides Leatrade, Mrs. Hudson was the only other person to visit him. She had brought Sherlock and John some cleans clothes and was able to sneak Sherlock some of her biscuits. He wasn't surprised that Mycroft hadn't stopped by, getting Sherlock and John their own private rooms was his way of saying 'get well'. Harry was at least somewhat sober when they had called her, but Sherlock deduced that she probably won't come see her brother for a couple of days (if she did at all) because of a hangover.

A bouquet of flowers was delivered with a ‘get-well’ card from Molly. After the incident in morgue she had been given some well earned vacation time.

Sherlock, who was becoming quite bored, was debating whether or not he should call Mrs. Hudson and ask her to bring him his skull. A groaned when he remembered that John had hid it again (by Mrs. Hudson’s request).

He needed to stop, he needed to calm down. A trip to his Mind Palace was well over due, so as Sherlock laid there in bed he blocked out all his senses and began to wonder down the halls of his Mind Palace, being sure to avoid John's room.

* * *

Sherlock began repeated blinking his eyes as he came back from his Mind Palace. AS he looked around the room he saw that breakfast had been served, for a tray of food lay next to him. It was untouched and would stay that way; Sherlock now had much to think about. He looked over at the clock in the room; it was just after eleven forty. If he remembered correctly, which he did, he had begun to wonder off in his Mind Palace just shortly after in two thirty am.

Nine hours.

A knock on the door drew him from his thoughts. A looked over and saw Nurse Daisy entered the room.

"Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock looked up at the girl and gave her his attention. She seemed to be quite happy about something, perhaps she had news about.

“I have good news, your doctor thinks you might be well enough for a trip home. If you have someone who is able to look after you at your home, with an exam of course, the doctors are considering letting you out a few days early.”

This was good news, Sherlock had always hated hospitals, they were always so boring. All you did was lay around and let you body heal itself, he could do that at home! Why was it necessary for him to lie in an uncomfortable bed in a place that smelled horrible when he could be in a comfortable bed at home?

“He left the ER last night around four. He is currently stable and resting. He hasn’t woken up yet so the doctor’s aren’t sure if they want to move him yet in case there was any brain damage. Dr. Watson was knocked up quite a bit so they can’t be sure until he awakens.”

Sherlock only nodded, he suddenly felt all his energy leave his body. He felt a deep ache course through his body, not only from his injuries but also from the position in which he lay.

“Also, the doctor who was doing surgery on Dr. Watson would like a word with you when you up to it. That friend of yours, the officer, mentioned you were working on Dr. Watson’s case and believes he has something you might want to look at. If you need anything let me know.” And with that she left him a kind smile and shut the door behind her.

_Mid 20's, moved out of her parents about 3-4 months ago, broke up with boyfriend 2 weeks ago, caught him cheating with best friend, has a large dog, has trust issues, has an older brother in the army, and is taking care of sickly grandparents who most likely aren't going to get better._

 


	15. A Lump in My Throat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay everyone, up next is the epilogue! John will finally wake up and begin on the long road to recovery. Now that Isabelle has been caught, what has happened to her? And what will be her fate? 
> 
> Side note: GHB stands for Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid. It's a type of sedative that is commonly used in date rapes. It is Illegal in American as a Schedule I but is a Schedule C in the UK. This means that is it Illegal to manufacture, buy, possess, or distribute (sell, trade or give) without a DEA license in America. As of December 2007, GBL, which is converted by the body into GHB, is not legally controlled. It is reportedly being sold as GHB for recreational use (in the UK).
> 
> For more info about GHB: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gamma-Hydroxybutyric_acid
> 
> For more about the legal status of GHB: https://www.erowid.org/chemicals/ghb/ghb_law.shtml

* * *

Even though Sherlock never asked for any food, Daisy brought him a tray of soup. Tired and feeling aches all over, Sherlock was only able to eat a few spoon full’s of the soup. Along with the soup, Daisy had brought in the report (at Sherlock's request) about John's operation. Apparently Isabelle had her men insert a metal device inside of John that would release poison when triggered.

Although feeling weak, Sherlock wanted to finish this case as quickly as possible. There were only a few questions left to solve and only one person would be able to answer them. So with a sigh, Sherlock pressed a button Nurse Daisy soon entered the room.

"Yes Mr. Holmes, is there something I can do for you?"

"I want to ask the doctor who operated on Dr. Watson a few questions.”

"I’ll need to check you over to make sure you’re well enough to move around. You were lucky enough that only your left arm was broken, but your muscles will still be very weak. I’ll speak with your doctor and see if I can get a wheelchair for you.”

* * *

In his office, Dr. Young was looking over a John H. Watson's report; it was like nothing he had ever seen before. The poison that was found in Dr. Watson's body was, from his research, extremely rare. What was worse was that he found some metal object attached inside John Watson's body! As he placed the slide that held the metal object under a microscope he found small openings all around it.

Lost at what the object was, Dr. Young called the Scotland Yard and told them he had found the cause of what was poisoning Dr. Watson. They told him they would send over the DI in charge of the case and to leave the object untouched.

It was right about then when Daisy Louis, came into his office. "Umm...Dr. Young? Mr. Holmes would like to speak with about Dr. Watson, is it alright if he comes in?"

"Yes, thank you Miss. Louis, send him in."

Dr. Young had heard a bit about Sherlock Holmes, from officers, patience and from the paper. He was supposed to be a genius right? Perhaps he could tell he more about this piece of metal.

"Dr. Young I presume?" A thin, pale, dark haired man was wheeled into Dr. Young's office. Although Dr. Young had seen Sherlock's picture before, he nearly didn't recognize him without the deer stalker hat.

"Mr. Holmes, a pleasure" Dr. Young said as he begun taking out the rest of Dr. Watson’s report. "I suppose you have questions concerning Dr. Watson?" From he was told Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes had come in together after an accident in involving a police case.

Sherlock nodded, "Yes, and from the looks of it, so do you."

Dr. Young nodded, "Have a look at this; it's a piece of metal we found _inside_ of Dr. Watson. We found it located near the bottom of his throat. Do you have any idea what it is?"

Sherlock pushed himself towards the desk and put the microscope on his lap as he looked into it. On the slide was a small metal container like object with small holes littered all around it and two slightly larger holes on either end of it. “Oh….This is brilliant! This would have taken months, maybe even years to create!”

"What! Do you know what it is?" exclaimed Dr. Young.

"No, not exactly, but I'm beginning to understand how it works."

"Please Mr. Holmes, do enlighten me."

"Well, Miss. Louis was kind enough to give Dr. Watson's reports. On it I saw that he was given a large amount of sedative, both here and while he was away when he was taken by Miss. Foster. Dr. Young, do you see those two small holes on both ends of the piece?"

Sherlock backed away and allowed Dr. Young to have a look. "Yes, I'm guessing those are important?"

"Very, also, notice there is smaller holes all around it. You see, the metal piece was placed at the bottom of the throat near the esophagus, I’ll guess you probably found this by the subcalvian vein?”

Dr. Young only nodded to confirm Sherlock’s deduction.

“In Dr. Watson’s report it was found that he, along with the poison, had large amounts of sedate, GHB if I’m correct. You said in Dr. Watson’s report that you believe this metal piece to need a trigger? Well, I think that’s where the sedative comes in. You see, once the metal piece is put into place along the subcalvian vein, where Dr. Watson’s capturers most likely injected the GHB. If we were to open this up, we would most likely find that the smaller holes have some kind sensor in them that was made to only to release the poison inside the container when triggered by GHB.”

“And the poison would be released through the two larger holes?” Dr. Young said placing the microscope back on the desk.

“Yes,” replied Sherlock. “With Dr. Watson’s body would already by trying to absorbed the sedative, the poison would slip right in along with it.”

“Remarkable! But how would someone come by this? From what I was told you and Dr. Watson were dealing with drug dealers.”

“No, we were dealing with smugglers. The gang we were dealing with was at a world wide scale. So it’s no surprise that they have connections with some scientific group. The Gang leader probably made a deal to get them whatever materials they needed, illegal or not was no matter, as long as they got the first sample of the product.”

"How- how is it possible for one person to have such control and power and strike such fear into people." Dr. Young said warily, he seemed shaken with the idea of one person having so much control. Sherlock smirked internally at the thought if he had told the doctor about Moriarty and all the power he had.

Sherlock gave a small smirk, "Easy, she was insane. Get her mad enough and she would kill you. Keep her happy and she'll reward with whatever your heart desires. Power and control come hand-in-hand, once you have one; you have the other as well."

"Umm...excuse me," a quiet voice said from the door frame. The two men turned to see Daisy had returned. "Dr. Watson is ready to have visitors."


	16. A Far, Far Away Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have already read this on fanfiction.net I apologize! 
> 
> Like seriously, I went over my past work and saw all the grammar errors and missing words and confusing plot points. Why on earth did anybody read this junk? I can honestly say that if I hadn't written this, I never would have read! I am going back to the original version I posted and updating it cause jeez, how anybody survived this and read it until the end I'll never know!

She sat hunched forwards in the chair she was tied to, it had been three days without food or water, and she was feeling the effect it had on her body. The past week had been like a dream to her; being transported from prison to prison. Where she was didn’t matter, the clothes on her back weren’t she own, she owned nothing, she had not a penny in her name. What makeup she had on had been washed away by the cold water that had been thrown on her.

“Mrs. Foster, I’m only going to ask you once more.”

Foster…Isabelle Foster, that was her name wasn’t it? They wanted to know about her business, about her poison, about her friends, they just kept asking, and asking, and asking.

“The poison you gave to Dr. Watson, where did you get it from?”

The voice was familiar, it was the only voice she had heard in the past three days. It begged her, threatened her, promised her, but it was cold and unfeeling. This person had not a drop of kindness to give her.

“From a friend of a friend.”

That was a lie; she knew exactly where everything came from, from the orchards the apples next to her bed to the labs her poisons came from. She was stupid enough to simply accept gifts and taking someone’s word on what they were and could do. 

“Where is the rest of it? We know you have more.” The voice responded.

The closest thing she got to kindness was in the monotonic voice of a doctor. They had told her she would been sent far, far away to an island to be treated and forgotten about. Her story was coming to an end, and it was one that many hoped to move on from and forget.

“In a castle, in a far, far away land.”

“What’s the name of this ‘friend’ you got it from?”

“Lucifer”

“Where is your ‘castle’?”

“In a far, far away land.”

“Your business is crumbing down; all your friends have turned against you. We even have a few of your men who turned themselves in and are willing to testify against you. It’s over, what do you have left to hide?”

“I plan everything you know; I wanted to kill Dr. Watson. Putting him in front of that stupid candle store was Danny boy's idea. Smart one him, it was shame I had to kill him. He had brown eyes you know." She said as she looked away from the man and into nothing, "I always liked those brown eyes, they were soft and kind, I think he pitied me, so I hated him, but I loved those eyes." 

Realizing he would get nothing else from her, the man nodded to a camera in the corner of the room. He stepped aside to let two armed men into the room who unchained Mrs. Foster and carried her away.

A far, far away land.

That’s exactly where she would be going; to a place where the insane went, and few ever returned.

* * *

 

 

_“John?”_

_The voice called out in the darkness; it seemed to be coming from everywhere but nowhere at the same time. There was nothing but darkness and the void. He tried to call back, but as he opened his mouth, nothing came out._

_Memories of a woman, being chained, and Sherlock…_

_Sherlock would, he always knows, all John has to do is open his eyes and ask. But why is that simply task too hard? The darkness seemed too large and heavy to fight against. It felt like it was growing, like it was trying to consume him. But John fought against it regardless._

_“John?!”_

_Okay John, you were a soldier, this is an order, on the count of three open your eyes. Ready? 1…2…3!_

Like a veil being lifted, the darkness gradually began to thin and fade. With the first fluttering of his eyes, John saw a bright light. Other sounds began registering in his mind. The shuffling of feet, the beeping and mechanical sound buzz of the machines next to his bed.

“Ah, Dr. Watson, you were beginning to worry us for a moment. Can you talk?”

As his eyes readjusted to the room, shapes started to form in front of him. The figure of the doctor standing over him, the nurse reading from a chart, and a person sitting on the chairs on the other side of the bed. Muffled voices further away sounded like they were underwater as John struggled to hear what they were saying.

“Thank you Mr. Holmes, but we don’t want to exhaust Dr. Watson here. We’ll need to run a few more test before we can give him the all clear.”

So Sherlock was there, he was the one calling out to him. The thought of Sherlock patiently sitting next to John’s bed waiting for him to wake up left a comforting feeling in John’s chest.

“Sh’lock?”

‘Yes John, I’m here. Don’t worry, Mrs. Foster has been caught and taken care of. You’ve been out for a few days, your surgery was fine, but you’ve been under some heavy sedative since then.” 

* * *

 

 

As John recovered from his surgery and become more coherent as the sedatives left his system, Sherlock told him what had become of Mrs. Foster.

“You still haven’t told me.” Sherlock asked at the end of his story.

“Told you what?” John said in confusion.

“Where you his my skull!

“Ooooh, you mean back all those weeks ago when I told you to either start being more considerate towards others or never see your skull again?” John asked innocently.

“Yes, yes! Mrs. Hudson gave it back to me a week later while you were out doing the shopping. But it has appeared to have gone missing again, so where is it?”

John smiled smugly, “Somewhere you would never think to look.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John. “It’s obviously not at 221B, and Mrs. Hudson would have complained if you had left it in her flat for so long, so not there either. You wouldn’t have done something stupid like take it to St. Bart’s, it could get mixed up with another skull or you could get in trouble when either taking it to or from the building. So you’ve hidden it somewhere else, but not on Baker Street, somewhere it’s safe and can easily be accessed.”

“Oh please,” John said rolling his eyes, “Can we not do this? I’ve just recovered from surgery and it would be nice if I could get some rest-“

“You’ve been resting for days.” Sherlock said from his sit, with his faces pressed together against his chin. “I’d say you won’t get any more rest until tonight after you’ve had your medicine. Now where was I? Oh yes, my skull would be someplace where you can check on it daily, someplace your familiar with and familiar with the people there. Therefore, the only place it could be is hidden within your desk draw at your office at the clinic.” Sherlock said with a satisfied gin, looking at John expectantly. “Well?”

“Well what- oh no, nope, I don’t care how clever you are, or how true I think it might be, I’m not saying it.”

“Oh come on, humor me, I’ve just finished a case _and_ sat here patiently waiting for you to wake up. It’s the least you could do.”

John shook his head, “Fine, you’re fantastic Sherlock. Simply amazing, extraordinary, are you happy now?”

“Very. Now, how long do you have to stay here?”

* * *

 

 

The very first thing John did when he returned to Baker Street was take a nice, long, hot, bath. Mrs. Hudson had been a saint for bring both John and Sherlock (who had refused to leave John’s side) a change of clothes. Besides her, Lestrade came to visit as well. He told them about finding the rest of Isabelle’s men and loose ends. While Sherlock admitted that her reach was far and wide, Isabelle would have been nowhere near as dangerous as Moriarty’s web was. She tried to force an air of intimidation around her, but Sherlock submersed that had she not been caught, some other war or drug lord would have easily taken her out. Isabelle would have caused more trouble for them then help.

Molly Hooper also came to visit for a short while; she didn’t stay long, but did bring some freshly baked biscuits with her. She also said that if Sherlock behaved himself while John was healing, she would allow him to take home a fresh liver and heart.

But much to Sherlock and John’s displeasure, Harry Watson also came for a visit. Harry’s was the short out of them all. Fortunately, she was sober long enough to have a coherent chat with John, but things turned quickly sour when she started to blame Sherlock for putting her brother in ‘such a state’. Security was quickly called right before she could slap Sherlock after he confronted her about the married woman she was having an affair with.

Once they returned home, things began to settle down and return to as normal as things can be when living with a sociopathic consulting detective and a adrenaline junkie ex-army doctor.

“Do you think there are others out there, like Isabelle Foster?” John asked one afternoon as he finished unpacking from the hospital.

Sherlock thought for a moment, “I have no doubt that there are others out there who wished to be as big and powerful as Moriarty, but whether or not they have the means to is the real question. Unfortunately, I think we shall have a few moment of peace and quiet before any real threats come out and make their first moves. During that time, we shall have to busy ourselves with the smaller, pettier criminals of London if that’s all right if you, John?”

John smiled at his friend. “Ready when you are.”

* * *

 

 

 

On an island far, far away, so far away only those who work there know of it, a beautiful, young woman sits on the floor in a padded room with a straight jacket tried around her. In the corner of the room was the single device in the entire room; a small CCTV camera. On the other side of this camera, two men sit in a room watching each of the different TV’s to ensure all of that day’s operations go as planned.

“I’m going on break Pete, gonna grab a cuppa, want one?”

“Sure, thanks mate.”

Pete was a young man desperately trying to balance between his work and relationship with his wife. His father, who happened to own a very success security business, had gonna him this job. He was new to this kind of work and was terrified his boss would replace him with someone more experienced. His current paid him five times more than his last one! He and his wife might finally be able to buy that house they’ve been wanting.

Him and his wife, Danielle, had been married for almost a year now, they were happy and as much (and maybe even more) in love then when they first were married. But with Peter being gone for such long periods of time, all the stress from work and with the baby on the way, peter decided she could do with a nice break and her brought over to her mum's house for a week.

Once his co-worker left to get the cups, the phone next to him began to ring.

“Could you check on patient 24601? The orderlies are saying their hearing sounds from her room, they think she’s doing it again.”

“Okay, hold on for a sec.”

Pete flipped on a switch which allowed him to hear the audio. As the sound filled the small security room, he signed and spoke back into the phone.

“Yeah, you might wanna send someone in there, she’s seems okay at the moment. But I think she might go violet if you don’t get her on something soon.”

With that he hung up and watched as a few orderlies made their way down the hall towards patient 24601’s room. A chill made its way over his skin as he listened to the patient’s mad mutterings.

“..never never ever ever…”

“Never Never Ever Ever…”  


“NEVER NEVER EVER EVER!!”

 

**_~The End~_ **


End file.
